


Collateral Damage

by ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Genderbending, M/M, Other, Polyjuice Potion, Profanity, Sexual Content, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albus Potter had what some would call a fascinating job -- working for the Magical Law Enforcement's intelligence department. But when suspicious activity caused the Ministry to think the infamous Knights of Walpurgis were up to something, their leading expert was called into action.</p><p>In disguise and out of his mind, Albus embarked on an impossible task, but when things started turning for the worse, why were his only thoughts about the one person he would hurt along the way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

**_2 October, 2038_ **

_Too hot. Definitely too hot._

Albus Potter set his coffee down on his desk. Every morning, the receptionist would make coffee for all the on-duty officers of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and every morning, it would be hotter than the centre of the sun and undrinkable for some time. He could never quite get the Cooling Charm right. 

This was the heaviest thought in Albus’s head when a paper aeroplane memo landed on his desk from Richard Jenkins, the director of the MLE. All it said was to meet him in his office at half past ten and to bring the case file with him. That was fifteen minutes from then, so Albus scrambled to assemble everything he could for his current assignment. 

This case was the same one he’d been on for nearly three years, and he had been elevated to the lead on the project. For centuries, the Knights of Walpurgis had operated in secret, conducting rites and rituals that were meant to sanctify the purity of blood. Though the idea of pure-blood supremacy was fairly squelched at the present day and age, the Knights remained unified. They were allowed to have their own opinions and preferences, but the history of their organisation — mainly that they were the direct predecessors of the Death Eaters — begged for a watchful eye. 

And that eye, as it so happened, was Albus’s. For the most part, they merely gathered, drank too much, and said derogatory things about Muggle-borns, which never really hurt anyone. However, recently their activity had spiked, which gave Albus reason to increase surveillance on the group. That was his best guess as to why Jenkins wanted to see him. 

Arms full of folders, Albus entered his supervisor’s office one minute ahead of schedule whilst mentally preparing for a presentation of facts. When he was settled, Albus picked up the first file and opened his mouth to start his discussion, but Jenkins cut him off. 

“Potter, I’ve been reading your reports, and the Ministry thinks it’s in the best interest of everyone if we up the ante on the Knights.” 

That was certainly to the point. “Yes, sir, I agree.” Drawing out tables of figures and a list of dates, he pointed to certain ones and added, “As you see here—“

Jenkins shook his head. “No, Potter, that’s not what I’m talking about. They’re up to something, and we both know it. Just watching them isn’t going to give us answers.” 

“So what do you want me to do?” 

“I need you to go inside their circle and learn some of their secrets.” 

Albus was sure that Jenkins’s tie was on too tight or something, because what he was suggesting was pure madness. “You do realise who I am, right? The day that lot lets me within a league of them is the day that hell turns into an ice cream parlour.” 

Opening a file on his desk, Jenkins said, “Oh, we’ve made provisions for that. You’ll be in disguise.” 

He slid a slip of parchment to Albus, whose face turned nearly as white. “Please tell me you’re joking. This is… this is completely insane. There is no way they’re going to buy it.” 

“If you play your part right, they will.” 

The tone of Jenkins’s voice told Albus that this wasn’t a joke. The mere thought made him want to crawl into a hole and die. “So, there’s no chance of someone else doing this, right?” 

Leaning toward Albus, Jenkins said, “Now, I want you to listen closely. I don’t care who your father is; if you don’t do this, you’ll find yourself in the Centaur Liaison Office faster than you can say ‘Holy Hippogriffs’. You got that?” 

With a gulp, Albus squeaked, “Yes, sir.” Recovering his voice, he asked, “Anything else?” 

Jenkins handed Albus the whole folder and said, “Read this. This is your cover story. You need to know this better than your own life history. Not only does the operation rely on you to do this, your life very well might, as well.” He leant back in his chair. “Dismissed.” 

And that was that. Albus stared at the paper in his hands, which would probably cause him to have some sort of mental episode, or at the very least, an identity crisis. He was being sent into the heart of pure-blood society as a spy, and he was going to do it in disguise — as a woman. 

 

Albus turned over the innocuous-looking capsule in his hand almost reverently. “You’ve figured out how to turn Polyjuice potion into pills?” 

Smiling triumphantly, Ernie Macmillan, one of the officers in the Intelligence Office, said, “Not only that, but we’ve managed to make the effects last six hours. Apparently, if one tweaks the balance of Boomslang skin and lacewing flies just so, the effects are much more stable. Not only that, the transformations are even less painful.” 

Now regarding the almond-sized pill with renewed respect, Albus finally dared to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since he received his lamentable assignment. “So, do you have any idea who the girl is that I’m supposed to be, you know…turning into?” 

His face much more serious, Macmillan said, “About that. The donor of the genetic material happens to be my cousin Irena from my mother’s side of the family from Poland. I’ll have to ask that you, er, respect her privacy.” 

Blushing furiously, Albus stuttered, “I’ll do my best, sir, but it’ll be a bit difficult not see, you know…bits.” At that moment, he fervently wished that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Just so long as I have your word that you will be as much a gentleman as possible, I’ll be able to tell my Uncle Wojtek that you’ll treat his daughter’s body as if your life depended on it.” 

Scowling, Albus said, “But my life _does_ depend — never mind. I promise I won’t look on purpose.” As he’d had enough of the uncomfortable subject, he asked, “So, I’m assuming that this new identity of mine is also a relation of yours?” 

Shaking his head, Macmillan said, “Not exactly. Though your new ‘parents’ existed, they never had a daughter — or any kids, for that matter.” 

He was, of course, referring to his great-uncle Armin and great-aunt Delilah Macmillan, who had been the British Wizard Ambassadors to Eastern Europe for decades. They were relatively unknown outside of those in the business of diplomacy, so that they did or did not have a child was an easy fact to skew. Albus’s disguise was to be that non-existent daughter, Melinda. 

It could only be assumed that a member of the same family had been used in order to form a passable resemblance. Like Delilah, Irena had dark, wavy hair and a petite frame, though they weren’t technically related. She also shared distinct facial features. Albus had to hand it to the Intelligence Department; they had done a hell of a job. 

Having received a generous stock of the Polyjuice Pills, Albus took his profile home to study. He had been relieved of all in-office duties until further notice until his mission was completed. That gave him some time to get used to his new form and to procure himself some more feminine attire, even though he had no idea what to look for. 

This wasn’t even the hard part, though. He still had to find himself a way in. 

 

_**3 October, 2038** _

Smoothing out the jumper that he had borrowed from a very suspicious Lily, Albus examined his reflection in the mirror. All the garments, to his knowledge, were on properly, and the undergarments were fastened in the correct places. 

Admittedly, if he had been himself and not the visage of Irena, he would have most definitely been gawking at her. She was quite pretty, if a bit diminutive. Her height was barely over five feet, whereas Albus stood at five-foot-eight. It was a challenge to see the world from that much lower of a perspective. 

That day, he was headed to Diagon Alley to purchase some female clothing and to subsequently spread the word that the prodigal daughter of the Ambassadors Macmillan had returned to London. It wouldn’t take long for the news to spread. 

Albus hated shopping, but even he had to admit that it was almost fun spending hundreds of Galleons of Ministry money on frivolous things that were ‘necessary for the disguise’. Plus, behaving like ‘she’ was rich would be sure to attract the upper crust and possibly even garner an invitation to an event of some importance. 

It was on this shopping excursion that the solution to Albus’s problems came in a flurry of boxes and some unidentified root. His packages piled high, Albus could barely see over them. He hadn’t bought a purse yet, so he didn’t have anyplace, as most of handbags came with an Enlargement Charm, to stow his purchases. The lack of stature made it difficult to see over the stack in his arms and it was only inevitable that he would crash into something. That ‘something’ was a display at the Malfoy Apothecary Shoppe. 

The shopkeeper came out in a flash, and he was not happy at all. “Were you born yesterday, woman? Those gurdyroots are three sickles apiece, and you’ve ruined over half of them!” 

Albus felt bad, because this man was just looking out for his stores, and he _had_ destroyed a lot of what seemed to be a valuable commodity. “I’m so sorry! It’s just that I couldn’t see over my packages and—“

“And I suppose you’re not going to pay for it, either. Figures. You silly little rich girls who don’t care about nobody but—“

His interruption was cut short by a third voice coming from the direction of the shop door. “What’s all the commotion?” 

Scorpius Malfoy walked out to peruse the damage, but his attention was diverted to the irate employee. “This girl managed to destroy half a barrel of gurdyroot, sir. Likely isn’t going to pay—“

Holding up his hand to stop the rant, Scorpius made eye contact with Albus. There was something in his eyes that made Albus want to run and hide, because he knew what it meant. “Don’t be silly, Bartholomew. Accidents will happen.” He knelt to gather Albus’s packages in a neat pile and smiled dazzlingly. “Why don’t you come inside and collect yourself.” 

As much as Albus wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction, he didn’t. The opportunity was too good to pass up. If he managed to ingratiate himself with Scorpius Malfoy, whose family retained ties to the Knights, he could gain access into the pure-blood social circles even more easily than he’d thought possible. He would just have to grit his teeth and go forward. 

Allowing Scorpius to take his hand, Albus was led into the shop and to the office in the back. The chaise along the wall was proffered as Scorpius sat on the edge of the desk. “I’ve never seen you around before.” 

Desperate not to let his discomfort disrupt his mental processes, Albus took a deep, calming breath before answering. “Oh, I was born abroad. My parents died a while back, but I hadn’t come to England until recently.” 

“Ah, a foreign flower. No wonder you are so striking.” 

It took everything that Albus had not to roll his eyes at this obvious pickup line. Putting an insipid smile on his face, he said, “Oh, I’m no flower, and I’m definitely not striking.” The only ‘striking’ Albus planned to be was what he would do if Scorpius put his hands where they didn’t belong. 

“You sell yourself short, madam,” Scorpius cooed. “Perhaps you simply haven’t met the right person to change your mind.” 

_And I’m guessing that’s supposed to be you?_ Albus thought dryly. He had no earthly idea how a woman was supposed to tolerate such obviously suggestive behaviour. “I guess not,” he said as coyly as he could. 

Walking over to sit on the seat next to Albus, Scorpius made a conscious effort to brush against him as he sat down. “Come to lunch with me. Consider it repayment for the gurdyroot.” 

By this juncture, Albus would have merrily paid for every last destroyed root, but that wasn’t an option. Forcing a pleasant look onto his borrowed face, he nodded eagerly — or at least he hoped that was what it looked like. “Of course. I would love to.” 

Not fifteen minutes later, Albus found himself across the table with Scorpius effing Malfoy in the finest restaurant in Diagon Alley. The wallpaper alone probably cost more than his whole flat. He could not be more uncomfortable if he tried, and his face was beginning to ache from all the fake smiling. 

“So, tell me about yourself,” Scorpius said, staring at something a bit south of Albus’s neck. 

Fighting the urge to hex him, Albus said, “Oh, I grew up in all sorts of places. My parents were the ambassadors for Britain to Eastern Europe. I’ve lived in Russia, Poland, Slovakia — you name it.” It was more of a plea than anything, because Albus couldn’t remember any more countries. 

“Fascinating! I toured Europe myself after Hogwarts. Speaking of…where did you learn magic?” 

Albus blanched. This wasn’t in the provided information. He would just have to make something up and hope he remembered it later. “Oh, I, um…attended a few schools, but mainly, my parents taught me.”

But Albus’s hesitation went unnoticed when Scorpius shifted uncomfortably. “That just reminded me that I don’t, er, know your name exactly.” 

Doing his level best to grin at Scorpius’s glaring faux pas, Albus said, “Melinda. Melinda Macmillan.” 

Nodding, Scorpius asked, “Of the old, pure-blood Macmillan family?” 

“That’s them,” Albus said, trying to stave off his distaste for what he was about to say next. “Don’t consort with them very much, though. Dad said they’re a bunch of Mudblood lovers.” 

With a chortle, Scorpius said, “Well, my grandfather ought to like you. Not even my dad dares to use that word anymore in public.” 

Feigning ignorance, Albus asked, “Oh, is that not proper? Last time my parents were in the country, it was perfectly acceptable. I will try not to say it again.” At least Albus _hoped_ that he wouldn’t have to. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it. They can’t arrest you for saying it.” 

With yet another fake grin, Albus said, “You’re too kind, Mr Malfoy.” 

“So, you know me and I barely know you? That’s hardly fair.” 

“Oh, it’s just that I’ve seen pictures of your family in the papers here and there, plus with the name of your shop and the blond hair, I sort of assumed…”

Scorpius laughed. “Now I don’t feel bad, because you probably don’t know my given name either.” 

“And I am found out,” Albus lied, subjecting himself to the most unpleasant act of giggling. 

Taking Albus’s hand and kissing it, never breaking eye contact, he said, “Please, call me Scorpius.” 

 

_**31 October, 2038 ******_

“This is completely mad,” Albus said to himself while looking at his reflection. Scorpius had invited ‘Melinda’ to the Halloween Masque at the Greengrass Estate as his ‘plus one’. Of course he’d had to accept, but as he perused himself in the mirror, he nearly wished he hadn’t. 

The dress was abominable, but it was a part of the ‘costume’. He and Scorpius were attending as Sir Lancelot and Lady Guinevere. Scorpius got to wear respectable clothing and a sword, but Albus was stuck with a skin-tight number that showed more bosom than it covered. The woman at Madam Malkin’s had insisted that it was entirely appropriate for such a function, but Albus was sure that it was all a ruse to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. He didn’t even want to think about the debacle that had been applying make-up. 

At any moment, Scorpius would come to collect his firmly corseted date — if ‘she’ didn’t pass out from lack of oxygen first. He had a new respect for what women felt pressured to do for the sake of image and would make a conscious effort not to judge a girl who didn’t in the future. This whole thing was simply intolerable. 

A knock on the door sent Albus scurrying for his accompanying handbag and mask. It was time for Melinda to take over. “Coming,” he said, trying to sound sweet. 

From the other side, the bellboy who had carried ‘Miss Macmillan’s’ belongings up to the hotel room ‘she’ had rented answered. “Miss, Mister Malfoy is below whenever you’re ready.” 

Albus followed Benny, whose name he pretended to forget, out of the lift and to Scorpius, who patiently waited in the lobby. He gazed at his date in admiration. “You are…Merlin, I can’t think.” Taking a hand and planting a gentlemanly kiss upon it, he amended, “Resplendent.” 

_Resplendent? Who the hell says ‘resplendent?’_ Albus wanted to curse Malfoy simply for using such an atrocious word. Then again, a proper woman might’ve found the gesture to be sweet and flattering, so he forced himself to giggle, which was like sound vomit to his ears. 

They Flooed to the Greengrass Estate, which was packed to the brim with people in similarly elaborate attire, which helped Albus greatly to feel less ridiculous. Many faces were familiar, and they were all the right ones. Over half of the most influential Knights were there, and all of them were drinking and making merry. Hopefully, when he managed to ditch Scorpius, he could do some eavesdropping. 

Their first destination, however, was to meet Draco and Astoria Malfoy. The former ogled the brazen décolletage of the dress, whereas the latter rather sneered at it. 

Sounding like a giddy schoolboy, Scorpius said, “Father, Mother, this is Melinda, the one I told you about.” 

Inclining his head, Draco said, “A pleasure.”

_Yeah, I’m sure, you randy old git_ , Albus thought to himself. He made a mental note to never stare at a woman’s breasts again. The thought of being ‘that guy’ now made him extremely annoyed. 

Astoria, who was less impressed, asked, “So, what is it that you do?” 

“Not much of anything, really. I have no need to work, since my parents left me taken care of, but I was thinking that I might like to try my hand in…” Albus scoured his brain for a noble and acclaimed profession, but each one sounded more and more cliché than the last. “…in diplomacy, just like Mum and Dad.” 

“How touching,” Astoria said snidely. “A true woman of the people.” 

The more Astoria talked, the more Albus wanted to rip her hair out. She was unpleasant beyond words, and seemingly nothing met with her approval. But saying anything in his own defence could be detrimental to his ties with Scorpius, which were crucial to his operation. 

Noticing the tension, Scorpius mumbled something about seeing his Aunt Daphne and dragged Albus away as quickly as possible. When they were clear, he said, “I’m sorry about her. She’s quite gauche around other women. I think she’s still bitter about me not being a daughter.” 

“Why would that matter?” Albus asked.

“Oh, I wasn’t such a fun plaything when she couldn’t dress me up like her little princess.” 

The tone of Scorpius’s voice was wrought with bitterness, and Albus felt a genuine wave of sympathy for him. However, showing it would be a different matter. Melinda would be sweet and kind. Swallowing his bile, he stroked Scorpius’s cheek and did his level best to put a pouty frown on his face. His cheek muscles screamed in protest at the wildly unfamiliar pose, but his subject seemed to be receptive. 

With no warning whatsoever, Scorpius’s mouth descended and took Albus’s lips in a soft, almost tender kiss. Not even meaning to, his lips parted to allow further exploration. It wasn’t like snogging a girl; women usually let 

him take the lead. This time, Albus was reacting instead of acting.

When the kiss broke apart, Albus could feel his chest heaving, partly because he was annoyed that he hadn’t been prepared for this eventuality and a little because he wasn’t half as irritated as he should have been. He was a _man_. Being kissed by another bloke was supposed to feel weird and offensive, but aside from unfamiliarity, it had been neither of those. 

Scorpius must have taken Albus’s speechlessness as a good sign. His mouth spread into a grin, and he drew Albus close. With a whisper, he said, “Let’s go outside. Get some air.” 

Nodding like a simpleton, Albus followed. _Fuck._ How in the name of Merlin’s lopsided bollocks was this happening to him? First, he started the night with the sole intent of listening in on chatter from Knights, but instead, he was being dragged off to play tonsil hockey in the bushes. With a guy. Nearly in panic mode, Albus stopped in his tracks. “I…I can’t do this.” 

Looking at him questioningly, Scorpius asked, “And why not?” 

In a semi-brainless moment, Albus blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind. “I’m gay.” 

Instead of the serious response that he had expected from his ‘date’, Albus was regaled with hearty laughter from Scorpius. He couldn’t help but think that, had he actually _been_ gay, he would’ve been deeply offended by the lack of tact. 

“Rubbish,” Scorpius said. 

Sensing an uncomfortable moment looming, Albus turned away. Now he had to figure his way out of this one. “I, er, like girls. I’m sorry.” It was true enough, he supposed. 

“No you don’t,” he said softly. Soft lips trailed their way down the curve of his neck, which sent a sizzle of electricity down his back and gave him goosebumps. Hot breath radiated through flesh and a sigh permeated in the air. Albus was sure that it couldn’t have been his, but he never got the chance to find out as Scorpius whipped him around and crushed their mouths together in an almost savage kiss. 

Practically growling in triumph, Scorpius put his hands on ‘Melinda’s’ breasts, caressing them. Albus could feel himself stumble backward, for his head was spinning terribly. A rather conveniently placed tree stopped him from falling over, but it did nothing to deter Scorpius at all. 

As Albus cursed the extraordinarily low-cut gown, Scorpius slid one pale globe free of its scant restraint and coaxed the pink disc at the centre with his thumb into a taut little bead. His hands still busy, Scorpius leant in to whisper in Albus’s ear. “You’re just as straight as I am, sweetheart, or you wouldn’t be enjoying this half as much.” With that, he traced the delicate curve of that ear with the tip of his tongue. 

Albus could hardly stay upright as a hurricane of sensation pummelled his senses. He had never felt anything so raw and erotic in his life. It was like being held hostage by the way this still unfamiliar body reacted to such potent stimuli. That was it. It had to be the body, because he had been physically aroused enough to know that it had been nothing like this. 

By that point, Scorpius’s hands had moved lower, snaking their way through the slits in the sides of the gown. Just as they broached the forbidden territory of the inner thigh area, the sound of voices broke through the intimacy, causing Scorpius to stop his exploration.

“You’ve had your turn, Lucius. Further failure will not be tolerated.” 

Not believing his luck, Albus strained to hear any semblance of a response. This was better than he had hoped. To overhear known Knights in a public setting was one thing, but it was another entirely to listen to a conversation that was meant to be private. The assault on his personal space had nearly been worth it. 

Lucius’s voice cut through Albus’s thoughts. “I _told_ you I would handle it. As we speak, everything is underway as planned.” 

The other bloke laughed humourlessly. “I thought you might say that, Malfoy, but rest assured that we are watching you.” 

“I’d noticed. Your men aren’t exactly discreet, Flint.” 

_Flint, Flint…_ Albus searched his brain for any mention of a ‘Flint’ in association with the Knights, but he had none. There was a Marcus Flint in International Magical Co-operation, but that was it. This fellow had to be someone else, because Marcus Flint had no record of any kind in terms of anything illicit. 

Scorpius must have noticed the concentration, but he mistook it for something else. Once the voices had ceased for a good while, he turned away from Albus and said, “And now I suppose you’ll want nothing to do with me after hearing all that.” 

Feigning ignorance, Albus said, “I don’t even know what ‘that’ is.” Perhaps if Scorpius tried to explain the exchange, he would divulge some relevant information. “Who were those men?” 

“Well, the first one was Marcus Flint. He works in the Ministry. The second…” There was a hitch in Scorpius’s voice. “The second was my grandfather.” 

Albus had to contain his glee. Scorpius was opening up to ‘Melinda’, and the timing apparently couldn’t be better. “But I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be upset about. What were they talking about?” 

He could see the debate going on in Scorpius’s head, the one that weighed whether he should keep quiet or keep talking. To Albus’s delight, the latter won. “They’re both members of a group called the Knights of Walpurgis. Ever heard of them?” When Albus shook his head, Scorpius continued. “They are a secret society that believes that pure-bloods are the superior race and that everyone else should be subjugated to them. To a Knight, he is the highest form of wizard, and Muggles are hardly more than filthy animals taking up space.” 

“I see,” Albus said vaguely, already very much aware of the purpose of the Knights. However, he did notice Scorpius’s interesting choice in pronoun. “You said ‘they’. You don’t agree with them?” 

Shaking his head, Scorpius said, “It’s just not practical anymore. There are so few pure-bloods left that anything they do would be useless. There are far more half-bloods and Muggle-borns than any of our lot, and they run the country. Logic dictates that they are the future, and men like my grandfather who can’t let go will be relics of an embarrassing and nearly-forgotten page of history.” 

Gobsmacked by Scorpius’s obvious scorn for his family’s ill-doings, Albus blurted, “With your family’s history, I’m surprised that—“

“That _what_?” Scorpius hissed. “That we’re not a flock of blood purist maniacs? Well, maybe they are, but they are not me! My father may have been too much of a coward to realise it, but I refuse the let myself be a pawn in the games of foolish old men who just don’t know when to quit!” 

The tirade floored Albus. “I…I never said you were,” he said lamely. Unbidden, a modicum of respect rose in his chest for Scorpius. Even surrounded by the influence of Knights, he had still held on to his logic and ideals. Under vastly different circumstances, Albus might have even liked him, but at the moment, what he really needed was to keep Scorpius talking to him and to be sure he knew that ‘Melinda’ could be trusted. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Albus said, his voice shaking due to an onset of shivering. Now that the adrenaline had ceased, he was acutely aware of the autumnal chill that surrounded them. He ran his hands up and down his arms briskly, hoping for at least a sliver of relief from the cold. 

His previous anger gone, Scorpius came to Albus’s aid. He whisked off his decorative cape and draped it around his date’s shoulders. With a grateful smile, Albus pulled the fabric tightly to him. “Thanks.” 

Frowning, Scorpius said, “Perhaps we should go back inside before you catch your death out here in that ridiculous dress.” 

“Oi!” Albus said without thinking. “You’re the one who wanted to be Lancelot and Guinevere. This is just what the shop woman told me was appropriate.” 

“Only if you’re popping out of a cake, love. I don’t know what the girls wore to parties where you come from, but here, looking elegant and respectable is the way to go. I think the shop witch was having one over on you.” Smirking, he added, “Not that I minded looking, though.” 

Albus wanted so badly to hex the man for being such a cad, but even in his own mind, he realised that Scorpius was merely being honest. In his line of work, he knew better than to rely on complete strangers for accurate information, and this was no different. In retrospect, the whole thing was completely ridiculous. With an unladylike snort, he said, “No wonder your mum hated me on sight.” 

At that, they both laughed, and they were in good spirits when they arrived back at the party. Almost immediately, both of them were asked to dance by different partners. As much as Albus wanted to tell them all to piss off, he didn’t. He needed to ingratiate himself with the members of the pure-blood society. 

The first prospective dancer was Gregory Goyle, who had been in the same year as Albus’s sister. He was on the list of likely Knights but was classified as a minimal threat. “Mr Goyle, how lovely to meet you.” 

His interest definitely directed toward the south-of-neck region, Goyle said, “Likewise.” They danced awkwardly in silence, partly because of Albus’s inability to manoeuvre in such maniacal footwear and Goyle’s inability to manoeuvre in general. After a series of trodden toes and grumbled apologies, Goyle pulled them off the dance floor. “Say, what are you doing with a sot like Malfoy, anyway?” 

“Oh, nothing special. We just sort of bumped into each other in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago, and he needed a date for this thing, so here I am.” That sounded sweet enough, though what Albus really wanted to say was along the lines of ‘what the hell is it to you?’. 

From there, Richard Greengrass, Scorpius’s maternal grandfather, snatched Albus. He was much more amenable and less inclined to ogle ‘her’ chest. “So, my dear, I hope you won’t be put off by my daughter’s attitude. You seem like a nice girl, and Scorpius could do with one of those.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Albus said genuinely. This one seemed like a respectable bloke, unlike most of the people in attendance. From there, as dancing with Greengrass was far easier than the arrhythmic stumbling with Goyle, they chatted. As Albus shared his rehearsed personal history, he took the measure of Greengrass and determined that, while slightly prejudiced toward Muggle-borns, he was definitely not a radical or a Knight. 

Next, he was swept away by Marcus Belby, who worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, mainly as the one who made travel arrangements for the national Quidditch teams. He was on the list of suspected Knights, as well, although he seemed far too nonchalant to be a crusader for anything. 

“I hear your parents were diplomats,” Belby observed. 

Albus nodded. “Yes, sir. I’d spent my whole life abroad until recently.” 

“Really,” Belby said rather than asked. “Did you pick up any special _tricks_? After all, it is Halloween.” 

The mere idea of the innuendo to which Belby was referring made Albus want to punch his lights out. “Oh, I don’t do tricks. At all. I’m more straightforward.” Hopefully, the man would be able to read between the lines that his advances were unwanted. 

“Right. If you say so, sweetheart.” With that, Belby flagged down a passing server bearing a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Albus watched in disgust as he inhaled half a dozen finger sandwiches, all the while chewing with his mouth open. Apparently blood status didn’t translate to basic manners. 

Much to Albus’s relief, Scorpius spotted him and spirited him away from his rude dance partner. “I think I’ve had about as much as I can stand rubbing elbows.” 

Though Albus could have used the entire night for surveillance, it was getting late and his feet were screaming bloody murder. They made their way to the foyer where the Floo was and travelled back to Albus’s hotel. From there, Scorpius insisted on being a gentleman and accompanying Albus to his door. 

Not wanting to part on a bad note, Albus agreed. He would be staying there for the duration of the assignment, so it didn’t matter if Scorpius knew where he lived or not. They stood at the entrance, neither of them moving. Albus knew what was going to happen this time — a goodnight kiss. Perhaps it wouldn’t catch him off guard so badly this time if he knew it was coming. 

But surprisingly enough, Scorpius only kissed Albus’s hand and smiled. “You were brilliant tonight. I had much more fun than I usually do, and the credit all goes to you.” 

_Maybe because you had your hands where they didn’t belong_ , Albus thought chidingly. Instead of betraying his true thoughts, he lowered his head in what he hoped looked like a demure manner. “I had fun, too.” 

“Then maybe I could impose my company on you in the future?” 

Albus knew what this was. Scorpius was essentially asking him to be his ‘girlfriend’. Though the idea made his mouth taste like sawdust, it was exactly what he needed. Scorpius was his ticket into more parties such as this one, and if all of them were as informative about Knight activities, the case would be over and done before he knew it. “I’d love to,” he said in reply. 

“Excellent!” Scorpius said, excitement obvious in his voice. Albus couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, because when this was over and done and Melinda was gone, he was going to end up heartbroken, or at the very least sad. Considering everything, he didn’t deserve that. 

As Albus contemplated this, Scorpius stole his breath with a kiss. This time, with the added stability of a well-lit hallway and something more substantial to lean on than a tree, Albus felt much less inclined to fall over. Though that would have been a welcome distraction. 

And just like that, it was over, and Scorpius was backing away, a secret smile on his face. “Good night.” 

“Good night.” 

The second he let himself in, Albus kicked off his diabolical shoes and flung himself onto the bed. The night had given him a lot to think about. First off, he confirmed the identity of two Knights, and one hitherto unknown member of the group was discovered, as well. The Ministry’s suspicions that the Knights of Walpurgis were up to something was definitely well founded, and two of its most important players had already been identified. 

But there was one other thing that Albus couldn’t get out of his head — Scorpius. At first, Albus had known that Scorpius would end up being collateral damage, so to speak, that he was the obvious means to an end. But knowing what he knew about his unwitting operative’s viewpoints, the eventual outcome to the investigation saddened Albus in that the other man would eventually be hurt. 

Nonetheless, that didn’t matter. If the Knights were plotting anything dangerous, lives could be at stake, and that was Albus’s true concern. 

 

_**1 November, 2038** _

“Very good, Potter. I’m impressed that you could get this kind of information in one night. I trust you have further ventures scheduled?” When Albus nodded, Jenkins added, “But I do have one question, though. Are you certain that you heard the name ‘Marcus Flint’? 

”

“Yes, sir. That’s exactly who Scorpius said it was, and after that, I did recognise the voice.” 

Jenkins frowned. “Well, that is bad news. Have you shared this with anyone else?” 

Albus shook his head. “No, sir. I was under the impression that this mission is completely top secret.” 

“And you would be correct. Keep up the excellent work, and I hope your next visit is just as fruitful.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**_24 December, 2038_ **

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have,” Albus cooed sweetly to Scorpius when the latter proffered an elaborately wrapped Christmas present. 

“Nonsense,” Scorpius said, shoving the gift into Albus’s hands. “Go on, open it.” 

Taking the box, Albus looked at it warily. It could have easily been booby-trapped, but he shook off that thought immediately. It was clear by this point that Scorpius adored ‘Melinda’, so giving her a dangerous gift was not something he would do. It was squarish and flat, so its possible contents included jewellery, a book, or some sort of picture (of what, he had no idea). Unable to help himself, he shook it slightly. The contents shifted, but they didn’t clatter. That meant that he had no idea what it was. 

Deciding that he was stalling more than was proper, Albus carefully removed the ribbon and paper, just in case it was something unsafe, but it had not been necessary. Inside was a shimmering necklace, which the box was fitted to hold in place. That explained the lack of rattling. It was gold, and inlayed into the pendant was a heart-shaped emerald. Even to Albus’s aesthetically illiterate eye, it was gorgeous. And most likely extraordinarily expensive. 

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Albus said honestly. What was one supposed to say after receiving a gift that probably surpassed his annual salary in value? 

Scorpius suddenly looked very unsure of himself. “Do you, um, like it?” 

“It’s lovely,” Albus said quickly — and truthfully — but his conscience screamed for him to give it right back. “I can’t believe you spent this much on me.” 

His mouth quirking into a familiar smile, Scorpius said, “But you’re worth it, Melinda darling. You keep me from going mad. Besides, I thought that this time, when you go to another one of these horrid balls with me, you could wear something to let the other blokes know to piss off, ‘cause you’re taken.” 

Albus laughed, but it was without mirth. Each day this charade continued, he felt more and more guilty about deceiving Scorpius, who was, he had come to learn, a good man. It was increasingly obvious that Scorpius was falling for 'Melinda', and there was nothing that Albus could do to prevent it. 

Thankfully, when any sexual advances had been shot down, there were no suspicions or bad feelings between them. As far as Scorpius knew, 'Melinda' was saving herself for the right moment, and he respected that. Oddly enough, though, spending time alone with Scorpius had become fairly simple and stress-free for Albus. He was polite, considerate, and mindful of 'her' likes and dislikes. Down the road, when Scorpius found a woman who was _actually_ a woman, Albus thought that whoever it was would be lucky to have him. One could definitely do worse. 

They were attending a Christmas party at Malfoy Manor later that evening, hence why they were exchanging gifts then. What Albus had bought wasn't nearly as nice, but he thought that it would be fun at any rate. Since Scorpius had played Quidditch at Hogwarts, Albus had the idea of buying him the latest model of broom. Whether he still flew or not was a complete mystery, but it was the only thing that Albus could think of. 

Scorpius cleared his throat, snapping Albus out of his reverie. “So, is this box here for me?” 

It was a rhetorical question, because that's what the tag on it said. In order to combat any guessing by box shape and size, which had been a vice of Albus's since boyhood, the box was charmed to hold the broom, gloves, and flying robe — all in a box barely larger than a loaf of bread. 

There was something charming about the look on Scorpius's face as he tore into the package that, after several failed attempts, Albus had paid one of his younger cousins to wrap. One of the simple pleasures in life for Albus had always been to enjoy someone's reaction to a gift. For the most part, he had a knack for choosing just the right thing, and judging by Scorpius's expression once he pulled out the broom, he had succeeded once again. 

“Wicked,” Scorpius breathed as he ran his hand delicately down the polished shaft of the broom. It was a Firebolt 5000, which had only been in production for three weeks when Albus had bought it and was only being manufactured in limited quantity. Though he had never been much of a flier himself, Albus had even gawked at the gorgeous broom, such was the awe that it inspired. It had taken an owl from the Ministry just to get him bumped off the waiting list and take it home immediately. 

“Do you like it?” Albus said, genuinely hoping that he did. 

Jaw slack, Scorpius just looked back and forth between Albus and the broom, words seemingly lodged in his throat. “It's...I don't know how you knew, but this is the greatest gift anyone's ever given me.” Broom still in his lap, Scorpius pulled Albus to him and kissed him hard. There was such passion behind it that Albus could scarcely keep his mind focussed. The kissing didn't bother him any more by this point, but this time, the sheer appreciation that had brought it about actually caused Albus to enjoy the kiss just a little. 

When he pulled back, Scorpius sighed and rested his forehead on Albus's. “I can't believe you sometimes. I can't even figure out how you could possibly know I like to fly. It's no wonder I love you.” 

Albus felt his heart stop for a second that felt like an eternity. As much as he had wanted to avoid hurting Scorpius, there was no avoiding it now. The idiot had to go and fall in love with a fraud. The worst part was that the bloke was nice and respectable, not just some means to an end. His female chemistry exacerbated Albus's guilt, and his eyes filled with tears. 

“Hey now,” Scorpius said softly, brushing away a salty droplet with the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong?” 

Even if he could answer the question, Albus wouldn’t even know where to start. “Fucking hell,” he said frustratedly, forgetting for a moment to stay in character. 

Scorpius chuckled. “Charming, dear. I love how I never know what you’re going to say.” 

A sad smile ghosted across Albus’s face. Every minute that he listened to the besotted man pour his heart out made him sick inside, as only it could for the one who knew the ultimate outcome of the relationship. Straightening himself, he realised that he had to stop thinking about such things and focus on the task at hand, which was reconnaissance. “Shouldn’t we be getting ready?” 

Taking Albus’s changed demeanour for improved spirits, Scorpius rolled his eyes playfully. “And you’re already bossing me around.” 

From there, Albus left to prepare for the ball, taking the necklace with him. As much as he felt like a complete knob taking such a lavish gift from someone he was lying to, he had to wear it. 

At this point, the art of feminine attire was much less daunting. It no longer took hours to get dressed and to apply cosmetics, which greatly reduced the amount of the Polyjuice Pills that he needed to consume. That subsequently meant less visits to the Ministry, where his co-workers took the mickey out of him for pretending to be a girl. 

And, in record time, he was ready. Having invested in self-styling hair implements, that took the least amount of effort, and the make-up cost him less than a half-hour. The outfit, a simple, forest-green cocktail dress, was one that he could just pull over his head and zip up the side. The matching bag contained his wand, a couple extra pills, and a covert recording device that looked like a harmless compact mirror. 

Heading down to the lobby, even though Scorpius wouldn’t be there to pick him up for over an hour, Albus decided to take a detour. When he was sure that no one was listening, he Flooed to his father’s office. He really needed some advice. As he suspected, Harry was sitting at his desk, poring over a stack of reports before leaving for the day. 

Looking up, Harry noticed the well-dressed stranger in around his very top-secret work, and he instinctively reached for his wand. Albus fought the urge to smile. “I know this looks weird, but I’m not who you think I am.” 

“And just who is it that I think you are, madam?” 

“Some random bint who fell out of the wrong Floo because she’s too drunk to see properly,” Albus said as he sat on the chair across from his father. “It’s Albus, Dad. I’m undercover.” 

Still not buying it, Harry eyed Albus suspiciously. “Prove it.” 

Leaning back lazily, Albus said, “Oh, you mean like tell you that Mum was really upset with me when I said I wouldn’t be home for Christmas because I’m working? Or maybe when you tried to tell her that I can’t pick when things come up, so she got mad at you for doing the same thing and enabling me, as well.” 

After careful consideration, Harry started laughing. “Oh, Merlin, how the hell did you get stuck as a woman, Al?” 

Grumbling, Albus said, “This is what I get for being the best at what I do.” Now more serious, he added, “But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I — I’m having second thoughts.” 

Now back into dad mode, Harry nodded, “I can see that. You seem distracted. What’s your problem?” 

“Um, the part I’m playing in this,” indicating his female form, “is supposed to be Scorpius Malfoy’s girlfriend.” 

“Okay, go on,” Harry said with a remarkably straight face. 

From there, Albus knew he was breaking some sort of protocol about divulging aspects of his investigation, but it wasn’t like his dad was some regular bloke; he was the Head Auror. He would understand such things, if he didn’t know already. “I’m undercover for an investigation on the increased activity of the Knights of Walpurgis.” 

Nodding, Harry said, “My people have noticed that, as well. Jenkins said that he has people on the task. I’m assuming that’s you.” 

“Yes,” Albus confirmed. “But I can’t talk to him about…about this. I sort of already know what he would say.” 

“About what, Al?” 

“I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.” Albus couldn’t meet his father’s eyes as he said this; he felt almost ashamed for what he was admitting. “Scorpius is a decent person, and he’s not like the rest of them. I know when this whole thing blows up, his heart is going to be broken, and I’m not sure I can bring myself to make that happen.” 

Harry fell silent for a while, and it made Albus uncomfortable. Was he being judged, or was Harry just trying to think of an easy way out? There was no easy way out, and Albus knew that already. He had had weeks to think of one, and it simply didn’t exist. “Dad?” he asked quietly. 

“So let me get this straight. You’re investigating the pure-blood power circle, and Malfoy was your way in. Now that you’re in, you feel bad about using Malfoy. Is that about it?” 

Albus wanted to say that it was far more complicated than that, but he hesitated. He wasn’t about to tell his father that the son of his childhood rival had professed to love him, a cross-dressing MLE agent. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” 

Even though he could tell that Albus had something else on his mind, as well, Harry didn’t push the issue. Instead, he did what Albus hoped he would do, and that was to remind him about priorities. “I want you to think about this. It’s possible that a lot of people’s safety is riding on what you’re doing. You don’t have the option to back out or to do it half-heartedly. If you know you can’t finish the assignment, you need to tell Jenkins now before it’s too late.” 

“But I can’t just _do_ that,” Albus snapped. “I’m the best and most qualified to do it. I just don’t know if I can look Scorpius in the face every time I see him, knowing that when everything falls to shit, I’m going to rip his heart from his chest. How do I deal with that? What am I supposed to do?” Albus’s frustration was palpable, and he desperately wanted to run his fingers through his hair as he would normally do but couldn’t because it would disrupt its styling. Then he was angry all over again that the thought would even have to cross his mind. 

Sensing the tension in his middle child, Harry pushed aside the mountain of paperwork and focussed only on Albus. “So, do you care about him?” 

Blushing, Albus sputtered, “No! I mean, I do, but…I don’t even know.” He stared at the ceiling as the obnoxious tears started to form in his eyes again. Kohl was a pain in the arse, and he didn’t want to put it on twice in one night. Throwing discretion to the wind, he said, “You see this necklace? He got it for me for Christmas -— right before he told me he loved me.” 

Harry’s sharp inhalation was all Albus needed to know that his father finally understood his quandary. For a long while, there was silence, but Albus knew that Harry was merely trying to think of a good nugget of wisdom to impart. Finally, he said, “Albus, you know what is and isn’t right, and I also believe you know where the line is. You can’t sell out what you believe in for the sake of the law, because it isn’t always justice.” Bitterly, he added, “I should know.” 

Albus knew that this is what he had come to hear — confirmation that his conscience should not be secondary to his work, no matter what the situation. He also knew what he had to do. “Thanks, Dad.” 

“Anytime, son. You know where to find me.” 

“Yeah.” Indicating the Floo, Albus added, “I need to go now, but I’m really glad I could see you. Give everyone my best.” 

Nodding, Harry said, “Will do.” 

Returning to the hotel only moments before Scorpius arrived, Albus hardly had time to think before he was forced to fall back into character. He had just taken the first drink of the water that he’d ordered, but the sight of his current moral crisis made him choke on it. 

Ever gallant, Scorpius rushed to ‘her’ side, worried. “Are you all right?” 

“Fine,” Albus gasped. “Just swallowed wrong.” When he recovered, he took another fortifying swig of the cool liquid and said, “Shall we, then?” 

Arm-in-arm, they departed to Malfoy Manor. This was the first time that Albus had been there, as Scorpius lived in a flat in the city instead of at his ancestral home. Knowing what he knew of things that had occurred during the war, the mere idea of being in that place made Albus’s soul shudder. But that didn’t matter. He had a job to do, and this party would afford a good opportunity to rub elbows with Knights, who were still planning something big. 

Now that he was more adequately clothed, Draco seemed less inclined to stare and Astoria seemed less hostile, albeit a bit frosty. After a few forced pleasantries, they disbursed to mingle, as was expected of them. Goyle, Belby, and Greengrass were all there, the former two purposefully ignored by both Scorpius and Albus. The latter was far more interesting. 

“Well, it’s nice to see that my grandson has still managed to keep you by his side. I’m surprised that all of this hasn’t scared you off by now.” 

Fluttering his lashes, Albus asked, “Whatever do you mean?” 

“Oh, just the overall atmosphere. It’s borderline claustrophobic.” 

That wasn’t what Greengrass had really meant, and Albus knew it, but he wasn’t going to find out unless he played along. “Oh, you mean the socialising? I was born into it.” 

Evidently not garnering the sort of answer he sought, Greengrass smiled thinly and said, “Of course.” He quickly dismissed himself and left Scorpius confused and Albus slightly offended. 

“What in the name of Merlin was that about?” Scorpius asked. 

With a half-shrug, Albus said, “No idea.” That was not quite true. Greengrass had been subtly asking Albus what his standing was on blood status, and apparently, he had failed that particular test. He wasn’t even sure what the right answer was supposed to have been, but that hardly mattered. It was just unfortunate that he had left yet another bad impression on one of Scorpius’s relatives and a prominent social figure. 

Brushing off the incident, Albus hinted that he wanted to dance. Though he had no such desire, it had been enlightening last time around, so perhaps it would be so again. But this party yielded far fewer attendees, so the choice in partners would surely be smaller. After a couple of dances with Scorpius, Albus was whisked away into the arms of none other than Lucius Malfoy, much to the distaste of the former. 

“So, you’re the one that has managed to ensnare my only grandson.” 

Lucius was trying to be intimidating, and had he not been prepared for such an event, Albus might have actually succumbed to it. But, as it was, he had already circumvented several obstacles successfully, so a blustery old man was nothing to him. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve simply been swept away by a wonderful man who just happens to be your grandson.” 

With a calculated perusal of ‘her’, Lucius smiled. It was, however, an expression more like a cat who had spotted a tasty little rodent. “So, are you saying that who he is doesn’t matter to you?” 

Damn. Albus couldn’t say that it didn’t matter, because his persona was supposed to care about such things, but if he said it did, then he would have just contradicted himself. This would take some work. “Oh, don’t get me wrong! I know how lucky I am to find myself in such wonderful surroundings with such a well-bred man showing interest in me, but I would have liked him anyway.” 

Seeing that ‘Melinda’ was familiar with the game he wanted to play, Lucius said smoothly, “Oh, don’t think I’m judging you, my dear. But you know how things are — people never being what they seem.” The way he looked at Albus made him extremely uncomfortable. It almost felt like the man knew that this mysterious girlfriend of his grandson’s had secrets and that he wanted to know what they were. 

“Of course,” Albus said, trying not to convey any of his nerves. “Everyone has their secrets, sir. For instance, I am afraid of heights and spiders.” 

Affording Albus a courteous chuckle, Lucius said, “But those are hardly dark secrets. Surely you can do better than that.” 

“How’s this for you,” Albus challenged, stopping mid-step. “I know who your grandson really is, and he loves me for it.” 

This simply annoyed Lucius. “You presume much.” 

“I presume nothing, Mr Malfoy. Perhaps it is you who is presumptuous to question my motives.” 

A grudging respect seemed to form on Lucius’s face. “Well played, Miss Macmillan. Well played indeed.” 

Albus was saved from further awkward sparring by Draco, with whom he had never actually conversed. “Father, if I might steal your partner for a whirl or two. No need to keep the gorgeous ones to yourself.” 

Without waiting for a reply, Draco pulled her into the waltz that was currently playing. “Sorry about him. He thinks everyone is after Scorpius because he’s got more Galleons than Merlin himself.” 

Rolling his eyes in mock commiseration, Albus said, “Oh, no worries in that department. He’s handsome, considerate, and charming. The fact that he’s a pure-blooded princeling is merely an added perk.” 

Draco considered this. “Ah, so you are a pure-blood, I take it? Scorpius never told us if you were.” 

“He doesn’t seem to set much store in such things, from what I gather. Then again, it’s not like we have anything to worry about.” 

His features not nearly as schooled as his father’s, Draco was unsettled by what Albus had said. “What do you mean by that?” 

Not wanting to divulge anything that could lead to suspicion, Albus said, “Oh, just that the Mudbloods can have their fun. That doesn’t mean that we’re going to let them do so forever.” 

Looking appeased, Draco said, “Rightly so.” He seemed to approve of her viewpoint, which would definitely help her case, considering the man's general inability to stay quiet about anything important. As it was, he positively reeked of wanting to say something to further what 'she' had said but had barely stopped himself. That meant that he knew something of Knight activities, and it shot to the top of Albus's to-do list for the night to find out what that was. 

“Lovely party, Mr Malfoy,” Albus said nonchalantly. 

With a non-committal huff, Draco said, “It was Astoria's doing. I couldn't care less about china patterns and string quartets.” 

“So, you'd rather be somewhere else, then?” 

“You have no idea.” 

After that, the dance finished in silence, but Albus was trying to think of a way to open the conversation back up without arousing suspicion. The rather dark look on Draco's face didn't give him much hope, though. When the dance was over, Draco practically ran away, but Albus wasn't letting him get far. 

Draco wove his way through the people, and Albus did his best to look like he wasn't following directly. The former ducked up the stairs in the foyer, but as soon as he was far enough away, Albus took off his heeled shoes and ran up the stairs in pursuit. His quarry ducked into a room on the second floor, and standing outside of it to listen was Albus. 

There were muffled voices inside, but they were unintelligible. He could tell that one of them was Draco, as he had more of a penchant for loud speech. The second was who interested Albus the most, but whoever it was spoke far too quietly. Pulling his wand from his purse, he cast a Listening Charm so he could hear them both properly. 

However, when he finally could hear, Albus heartily wished that he couldn't. He now knew what Draco had meant about wanting to be somewhere else; the man was having sex, and his partner was most certainly not Astoria. Albus honestly wondered how Scorpius could have grown up with parents like these and turned out so bloody normal. It was mind-boggling. 

While he was there, though, Albus thought it prudent to find out who the mystery girl was. At the very least, in a desperate situation, he could use it as blackmail if he had to. It was completely unethical, but then again, so was adultery. But after several minutes of listening to heavy breathing and obnoxiously fake moaning, they were already finished, and he still had no idea who she was and no longer cared. The man could have his bad sex. 

Returning to the party before he was missed, Albus flew down the stairs and put back on his shoes just in time for Scorpius to come out of the ballroom. He seemed relieved to find his date. “Merlin, I've been looking all over for you. I was afraid you'd been abducted.” 

Waving his hand flippantly, Albus said, “Oh, don't be silly. I was just in the loo.” 

“Oh, then you can ignore me. It just seemed like you left at the same time as my father and —” He didn't finish the sentence and didn't have to, because Albus knew exactly what he meant. That answered one question that he'd had, and that was whether Scorpius knew of Draco's infidelity. It was obvious that he did, even to the point of practically accusing his own dad of sleeping with his girlfriend. Who knew what had happened to bring about that particular bout of paranoia. 

They went to one of the small tables that lined the room, and Scorpius went to fetch them some drinks. That left Albus free to eavesdrop on the two very drunk men at the adjacent table. 

“So, any news?” 

“Not much since yesterday. The operative says that everything is going according to plan, and the little snag he encountered a while back seems to have worked itself out. 'There's nothing to worry about,' he says.” 

Under the table, Albus fumbled to start the recording device. This was far too good to pass up. In order to get the best reception, he left the zip half undone and slung the shoulder strap over the back of the chair both to get closer and to block more of the conversation that he would likely start with Scorpius when he got back. 

Moments later, Scorpius returned with said drinks and they chatted about menial things like Quidditch and their respective educations. Apparently, Scorpius had been a middling student at Hogwarts and had only joined the Quidditch team to make up for his average grades to his parents. From there, he had learnt to love the sport deeply and flying in general, hence why the broomstick had been such a fitting gift. 

Once the men at the neighbouring table vacated, Albus pretended to be sleepy. He would have a nice chunk of information to share with Jenkins and he was heartily sick of this forced revelry. Mercifully, Scorpius seemed to be of a similar mind, so he sent a footman to collect their coats as they made their excuses. Draco, who had come back after his quickie upstairs, looked at them both suggestively, and Albus had to draw upon every modicum of his self-restraint not to knock the man’s lights out. Just because _he_ was shagging someone or another every time he disappeared, that didn’t mean that everyone else did. 

In the foyer, Scorpius fired up the Floo and led them back to the hotel. He led Albus to his door, just as he had on Halloween, and it was obvious that he was angling for a kiss, a drink or something else that Albus was in no mood to dole out. Of course, he had to go and be right. 

Scorpius took Albus’s hand in his and traced the lines on it with the tip of his finger. There was something oddly arousing about that simple act, but Albus simply wrote it off as that he was tired and that he was used to his female body doing strange things. He even managed to keep his discomfort off his face. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” Scorpius said, “but you make these things bearable.” He brought the hand up to his lips, which brushed the now-sensitive skin of his palm. “Thank you.” 

In the back of his mind, Albus derisively wondered if every woman was so easy to turn on or if Irena just had ridiculously sensitive nerve endings. If he could do this sort of thing with a couple fingertips, he’d never have to sleep alone again. 

By then, though, Scorpius had that look in his eye that Albus didn’t want to see, which was the one where he expected to be invited in for a bit of post-party recreation. He didn’t care how badly he needed a way to spy on the pure-blood circle; the line was solidly drawn at having sex with another man. There was no problem in refusing, just with how he should go about it. But it was damnably hard to think while his body was pumping blood at such an uncomfortable pressure. 

Taking Scorpius’s hand, Albus looked directly into his eyes. “I know what you want, but I can’t give it to you.” 

Albus could tell that Scorpius knew exactly what he meant, but he chose to pretend like he didn’t. “What do you mean, darling? I didn’t say anything.” 

_I could hex him right now_ , Albus thought darkly. He was going to make him say it out loud, the wanker. “Well,” he stumbled, “I’ve never, er, slept with a man before.” It wasn’t a lie exactly. 

Unperturbed, Scorpius said, “It doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere.” 

Albus had to try very hard not to slap Scorpius in the face — or even somewhere else. He was fairly certain that if any girl had just told him she was a virgin and didn’t want to sleep with him, he wouldn’t have said something as crass as ‘we all start somewhere’. This conversation was rapidly becoming a crash course in the ‘do’s and ‘don’t’s of wooing women. 

But something he said made Albus curious. “And where did you start?” Maybe that would explain his lack of understanding of what should have been a delicate issue. 

Scorpius smiled at the memory. “Amanda Porter in my sixth-year. She was a seventh-year at Hogwarts back then.” 

Unwillingly, Albus wrinkled his nose. Amanda Porter? She had been one of the ugliest girls in school. And a Muggle-born, at that. “You slept with a Muggle-born?” he said before he could stop himself. His hands flew over his mouth. 

Confused, Scorpius asked, “How do you know that?” 

“The name,” Albus said quickly. “It’s not a regular wizard family name.” Scorpius seemed to buy it, much to his relief. That had been a close call. It was seldom that Albus’s life had ever overlapped with his disguise, and it couldn’t happen again. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to judge or anything. Just curious, I guess. I suppose it’s only natural.” Slowly but surely, he was digging himself out of his hole. Maybe Scorpius would just write it off as ‘her’ being scared by something new and stigmatic like sex, and hopefully he kept on thinking that. 

“It’s okay,” Scorpius said, shaking his head. “I hadn’t really set out to do anything of the sort. It’s just that some prick named James Potter had called her a fat, ugly cow when she’d dared to come up and talk to him. She’d had a crush on him for years, and one of her friends told her she should chat him up before they all left school. All he’d done was break her heart.” 

“That’s terrible,” Albus mumbled. To be fair, though, it certainly sounded like something that James would’ve said at seventeen. His older brother had a panty-peeling smile, so he could afford to be a complete arsehole to the ones he didn’t want. 

Continuing, Scorpius said, “I had been in the library late, trying to write my Transfiguration essay in peace, and she was the prefect on patrol on my way back. When she stopped me to ask why I was out so late, I could tell she’d been crying. I thought that if I seemed sensitive, she wouldn’t dock me any house points or report me to Professor Sinistra, so I asked her what was wrong. She broke down and told me everything.” 

It was impossible not to laugh at the mental image of the short, chubby Amanda bawling all over Scorpius. “How on earth did you get to, you know, _that_?” 

“She said something like no one had ever been so sweet to her, and then she kissed me. I tried valiantly to back out before she got any romantic ideas, but it was like she had more hands than a tentacula. Plus, coupled with the fact that I was sixteen with raging hormones and the self-control of a kid in a sweet shop, it sort of wasn’t left up to my better judgement.” 

Albus honestly couldn’t think of a worse first time story. His own had been far less squicky and with a woman he had chosen, not one who had latched onto him like an emotional crutch. But this gave him the perfect out. “So I’m guessing you understand why I want to make sure that it’s right for me. I don’t want to look back and think that it had been a good idea at the time but regret it.” Borrowing a page out of his sister’s book of manipulation, he bit his lower lip and left his eyes open long enough to water and subsequently make him look to be on the verge of tears. 

Sold. Scorpius kissed ‘her’ forehead. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I promise.” Smiling, he backed away a couple steps. “Goodnight, love.” And then he left. 

“Goodnight, Scorpius,” Albus said quietly, alone in the corridor. For a while, he just leant against the door, letting his mind replay the encounter. He had thought his discomfort and awkwardness would ease as he watched Scorpius leave, but it didn’t. The man was just so stupidly uninvolved in the world that Albus was infiltrating yet was so irreparably tied to it. If only there was some way to get around it and not hurt the person who had just willingly shared probably one of the most embarrassing sexual encounters he’d ever heard with someone he thought he could trust. 

But that didn’t matter. He had a recording to listen to and a report to write the next day, and he was completely knackered. Stripping down to nothing, unmotivated to seek out his normal clothes, Albus fell into a troubled sleep. 


	3. Chapter 3

26 December, 2038

Jenkins had been perusing Albus’s report on the Christmas party at Malfoy Manor for nearly twenty minutes, during which he had been very silent. Albus couldn’t blame him, though, considering the tidings that the field report bore.

There was an operative in the Ministry, and he was working for the Knights and by extension whatever this plot of theirs was. The only clue as to the spy’s identity was that he was not some low-ranking official; he held true power. With their influence well rooted in the governmental hierarchy, it would only be a matter of time before the Knights made their move.

 “I can get more information, but I just need some more time,” Albus said tentatively, not fond of the quiet.

His concentration snapped, Jenkins nodded, “Right. This is good work, Potter. I never even thought you’d get this much. It’s definitely more than I expected.”

A little perturbed by his boss’s lack of faith in his abilities, Albus crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. The Knights were playing a dangerous game, and whatever it was that they were after, he was the one who had to bring them down and make sure they didn’t get it.

True to his word, Scorpius had maintained his resolve not to push Albus into anything sexual for more than four months after that. It was admirable, if not mind-boggling. Scorpius was nearly thirty-three, so going without a good shag for that long — and Albus was pretty sure that he was — had to be miserable.

As it was, at least once a week, Albus felt like going to the nearest sleazy bar, drinking himself stupid, and taking home the first girl that would have him, but he knew he couldn’t do that. First off, his social engagements with Scorpius monopolised a lot of his time, with the rest being spent amassing the information he’d collected into a sort of archive.

By this point, he knew that the Knights’ plans were quite long-term, but they were nearly set to move into action, and in a few months, they would. It aggravated Albus that he couldn’t find out who the mole was in the Ministry, because that would tell him a lot about what it was that they were trying to accomplish. He already suspected nearly everyone of pure-blood descent, merely for the fact that he had not been able to rule enough of them out.

But all of that was almost easy in comparison to keeping up this farce of a relationship with Scorpius. Albus had exhausted the profile information months before, so all the ‘new’ and fascinating facts about ‘Melinda’ were all a mesh of Albus’s own personal experiences and pure fiction. He could hardly keep track of which was which.

It was disturbing to him how easily he had slipped into the liar’s role. White lies, half-truths, and overt falsehoods poured out of his mouth like bile. Either Scorpius was really gullible or Albus was gifted at deception, because he truly seemed to have no idea that he was being played. Though Albus needed him to stay in the dark, it was still sickening to think of how misplaced Scorpius’s trust in his ‘girlfriend’ really was.

Their days fell into almost a pattern. Each day, Scorpius would come and take Albus out to lunch or dinner, or he would simply spend time chatting about whatever was on either of their minds. At various points, Scorpius would say that he loved ‘her’, angling for a similar response that never came, but he never said anything about it. They exchanged chaste kisses when appropriate, but it never went any further. For the most part, however, Albus still enjoyed spending time with Scorpius and fervently wished that they could have known one another under wildly different circumstances.

At times, Albus would even forget who he was, or more importantly, who he wasn’t. It would be something as simple as cracking a dirty joke and then summarily having to explain how a lady of breeding had heard such filth. A couple of times, Albus had exhibited far too much intimate knowledge of Hogwarts, a school that ‘Melinda’ had never attended, but that would be explained by reading _Hogwarts: A History_. Despite the fact that these moments were dangerous, Albus still relished talking about his own life for at least a bit and not the existence of a woman who didn’t even exist.

No matter the current status, though, Albus knew that he was running out of time in both aspects of his double life. Eventually, the Knights would go forth with their plans, and a lot of innocent people could get hurt. Also, Scorpius wouldn’t hold out forever before he got sick of pouring himself into a partnership in which the love was one-sided. That would lose Albus his best and only foothold in the veritable fountain of information that was high society fêtes.

That was, of course, until everything changed on a spring evening.

 

 

**_2 May, 2039_ **

Victory Day celebrations were hollow ones for the former followers of the Dark Lord, but they were necessary. That day hadn’t brought very many of them good tidings, but to not observe one of only three major holidays was simply not done. So, each year on the anniversary of Harry Potter’s defeat of Voldemort, the pure-blooded brass would come out en masse to pretend that they had always been on the right side.

That day had arrived. This time, it was the Bletchley family’s turn to hold the big party. Just like their peers, they spared no expense, not thinking twice about the obscene level of extravagance. All in all, it was just like every year before, Scorpius had said.

So there they stood, Albus in his feminine disguise and dressed to kill, and Scorpius equally decked out, bored out of their minds as they wished to be anywhere else on the planet than there. Every one of these get-togethers were the same: dancing, music, indulgent food, and trying to look wealthier than the person next to you. If he hadn’t needed to be there, Albus would have begged to leave.

Desperate for something to do, Scorpius had volunteered to fetch drinks for the night, to which Albus agreed. That gave him time to eavesdrop unnoticed, and if one thing was certain, it was that Scorpius knew when he didn’t hold ‘her’ complete attention. On one such drink run, though, Albus’s already strange relationship with Richard Greengrass was vaulted into a whole new level of weird.

Greengrass sat down in the seat that Scorpius had just vacated, drumming his fingers on the table. He said nothing for a while; instead, he simply scanned the throng of people over and over again as if looking for one particular person. Finally, he said, “Have you ever chatted with my daughter, Daphne?”

Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, sir, I haven’t. I’ve seen her a few times, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” And where the hell had _that_ come from?

“No matter,” he said. “I just thought you should meet her husband, Patrick. There are few with purer bloodlines than the Hornbys, so they’re definitely worth getting to know.”

Albus still had no idea why Greengrass thought that it mattered one whit to him, but that was neither here nor there. Since the man was in his eighties, perhaps he was simply going senile and everyone had the good grace to look the other way. That made far more sense than meeting some random bloke just because his blood was slightly purer and definitely more inbred than most of the rest of them in the room.

And just like that, Greengrass left. Before Albus could process what had just transpired, Scorpius came back with two very large glasses of punch. As per ‘her’ request, one was free of any alcohol, but Scorpius had no such willpower. These things were simply too damnably dull to go through it sober, he had said. As much as Albus had wanted to get sloshed, as well, he needed his wits about him.

To pass the time, they would alternate between dancing and sitting on the perimeter of the room, gossiping about who was seeing whom and who was jealous of that fact. Only sheer boredom could have made that half as amusing as it was, but it was something to do.

Much to Albus’s annoyance, no one was asking him to dance. That had always been the easiest way to scout out information, but now he was relegated to Scorpius’s visits to the bar for any reconnaissance. And then there was that bizarre conversation — if one could call it that — with Greengrass. There had to be something to it, but he could hardly just _ask_ the man.

Patrick Hornby, eh? Peeling himself out of his seat, Albus was simply too curious to let it be. Not too far away, he spotted Scorpius’s Aunt Daphne, and he was fairly certain that the man she was talking — well, more like arguing — with was her husband. He put on his best ‘I’m completely lost’ expression and wandered by the squabbling couple. It was hard to maintain, though, considering what they were arguing about.

“I’m not going to say it again, Patrick. We are _not_ taking a serving girl home with us. I’m pretty sure it won’t ruin the rest of your life if you don’t have a threesome before you die.”

Catching sight of Albus, Daphne blushed. “Melinda, dear, are you looking for Scorpius?”

“Well, sort of. It’s just that…” Albus paused for dramatic effect, hoping that these two were either stupid or drunk enough to buy what he was going to say. “I want to dance, but no one will ask me because I’m with him. I was hoping that if I moved around, someone would pluck up the nerve.”

Daphne seemed sympathetic, and she glared meaningfully at her husband. Hornby knew that he was already in trouble and likely knew what was good for him, which coincidentally was doing whatever his wife told him. “Miss, er, Melinda, would you care to dance?”

That had been far too easy. It was almost funny how simple it had become for Albus to use his ‘feminine wiles’ to get what he wanted. As Hornby took him out onto the dance floor, it struck him how accustomed he now was to being Melinda and not himself. At some point, the lines had blurred to the point where he was just as much Albus as he was her.

After a few minutes, Hornby asked, “So, you, er, heard what my wife and I —“

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you would want to —“

“No.”

If the mere suggestion hadn’t been so damned funny, Albus would have knocked the man silly. It did bring up a new question, though, and it was why the hell Greengrass had thought Melinda would want anything to do with this old pervert. If he didn’t like his grandson’s choice in girlfriends, perhaps he could be less enigmatic and just ruddy well say so.

So they finished their dance in silence, but Albus couldn’t let the opportunity pass to find out why he was supposed to be interested in Hornby. “So, Mr Greengrass said that your family is one of the purest of the pure-bloods. I admire your dedication, especially in times like these.”

“You’re telling me!” he said sharply. “Damned Mudbloods are everywhere. They’re even letting them run the bloody country!”

Now _that_ was an interesting turn. Get the man to stop thinking with his pud and he was actually useful. “Quite so. My father wouldn’t have liked that. It’s no wonder he stayed abroad until he died.

“Good man he was, then. It’s nice to see some of you kids keeping to sensible ideals. Unlike that boyfriend of yours.”

Albus shrugged. “Well, I can hardly condemn him because of that. He more than makes up for it.”

That unsavoury look returned to Hornby’s eyes — the one that meant his mind had wandered back to filthy territory. “Young stud like that? I’ll bet.”

Pretending shock and embarrassment, Albus said, “No, not like that! I meant that he’s nice. My mum would have liked him. He’s a nice, well-bred man that comes from an influential family. Nobody’s perfect, but he comes close.” He wanted to steer the conversation far from his sex life and back toward blood status. Hornby was a prime candidate to be a Knight, and if he didn’t get any information that night, at least adding a suspect would be somewhat of an accomplishment.

“Well, you seem to be of a proper mind, so I might as well tell you that it won’t be long before decent people like you and me don’t have to keep our thoughts and beliefs behind closed doors.”

Finally! “Oh,” Albus said, trying not to sound nearly as excited as he really was.

“Let’s just say that out with the new and in with the old will definitely change the balance of power.”

The subject seemed to be closed, but it was definitely an enlightening conversation. Of course, he would have to reflect upon it later, because Albus spotted Scorpius coming toward them. Stopping, he said, “I believe I’ve been missed, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Scorpius nodded at Hornby. “Uncle Patrick.” He all but snatched Albus away. “Nice to see you.”

From his tone of voice, Albus was sure that Scorpius was not at all pleased to see Hornby. It might have had something to do with him being a dirty old man, but nevertheless, his interaction with Hornby was officially over. “We were just having a quick spin.” Turning on his best charm, he added sweetly to Hornby, “And it was lovely to meet you.”

With a bow, Hornby said, “Likewise, my dear. Have a good night.”

As Albus was practically dragged away, Scorpius was obviously gritting his teeth in anger. He could barely keep up with the murderous pace with his much shorter legs.

“Oi!” Albus finally said, jerking his arm free. He was tired of being hauled around. Putting his fists on his hips like his mum did when she was angry, he hissed, “I can walk fine on my own, thank you. And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy y-fronts was that about, anyway?”

“He’s a sleaze, Melinda! You’re lucky he didn’t throw you over his shoulder and shag you in the nearest empty room!”

Albus was completely incensed. It wasn’t because his work had been interrupted; he was angry that Scorpius was treating him like a stupid little girl. “Ha! That’s bloody likely. And who the hell are you to tell me who I can or can’t talk to?”

Instead of being contrite, Scorpius only seemed to become more aggravated. “I’m only trying to look out for you! You don’t know these people like I do, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself. Fucking hell, I’m not a little girl!” Albus could practically see red, and he couldn’t keep up his persona. The lines were dangerously blurred between who Melinda was supposed to be and the righteously angry Albus. “You have no right to order me around!” Very aware of how public their argument was becoming, he spun on his heel and stomped out of the ballroom, much like the angry little girl that he had just professed not to be.

He’d had enough. He was leaving as fast as he could get past the reach of the Anti-Apparition wards. Scorpius was calling for him to come back from behind him, but Albus was far too pissed off at him to oblige. “Go to hell,” he shouted over his shoulder.

Just as he was about to reach the end of the grounds, Scorpius caught up to him. “Seriously, this is ridiculous! Why the hell are you being so…so _mental?_ ”

“Because I’m not yours to order around!” Albus practically shrieked. The sound was grating to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “If I want to dance with a fucking _goblin_ , I will! You have no say in the matter.”

Scorpius raked his fingers through his hair. “So what I feel doesn’t matter? The fact that I love you more than anyone else on this whole damned planet doesn’t factor in at all? Do I really mean that little to you?”

That brought Albus pause. For months, he’d worried about hurting Scorpius unjustly, and that’s what he had just done. That had never been his intention, but there was no taking it back now. “I’m sorry,” he said softly before sitting on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest. “That all came out wrong.”

Disarmed by the sudden change in ‘her’ demeanour, Scorpius sat down next to Albus and put an arm around his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. I only did it because I was worried about you, not because I didn’t trust you.”

The sincerity in Scorpius’s voice made Albus want to throw up. He had just gone completely insane, and instead of being told he was out of order, the git had to go and apologise. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what,” Scorpius asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Stop saying you’re sorry. I’m being a complete bitch, and you’re being far nicer to me than I deserve. You _should_ be telling me to sod off.” At this juncture, Albus wasn’t even trying to be Melinda anymore. He was too distraught, and the fact that his eyes were starting to water just exacerbated that. As the tears started to spill, he roughly wiped them away. “Shit.”

Scorpius pulled Albus close to him and stroked his hair. “No, you were right; I was being a jealous prat. I couldn’t stand seeing his hands on you, and I overreacted. You just put me in my place is all.” Then he chuckled. “Where did you learn to swear like that? You’d make an Auror blush.”

His focus finally returning, Albus said, “Oh, just some things I picked up here and there. Nothing too sordid.” He was still not ready to look Scorpius in the eye, but there was one thing he did have to do. “I’m sorry. I was horrible.”

“Let’s just forget it, okay?” Scorpius kissed the top of ‘her’ head. “Why don’t we just call it a night?”

Albus allowed himself to be led all the way off the grounds, and Scorpius held him close as he Apparated them to the front steps of the hotel. Shooing off the footman, he let himself in and headed straight to the lifts. It would have been practical to work out some way of fending Scorpius off at the door, but he was just too tired of everything to bother. The entire thing made him sick, especially how it had made him act. He would have even gone so far as to say he hated himself for it.

The ride was completed in silence, and they traversed the hallway wordlessly, as well. As the door was charmed to open only to Albus’s hand, he absently did so, not even caring that Scorpius followed him in. His male clothing was all tidied away, and anything incriminating was in the small office space in the next room over. There was just a lounge area and a bed in the immediate vicinity.

They both ended up on the couch, with Scorpius reclined on it sideways and Albus’s smaller female form fitted into his side. He hadn’t been held like that since he was really little, and it was oddly comforting. The feeling that he didn’t have to worry about anything overrode the objections in the back of his mind.

It didn’t take long before Scorpius’s arms wrapped slowly around Albus’s waist, purposely brushing the underside of ‘her’ breasts in the process. That did nothing for his nerves, and neither did the feel of hot breath on the curve of his neck. When that breath was replaced by soft, worshipping lips, any prior peace of mind was completely gone. In one quick motion, Scorpius rolled onto his back, and Albus found himself lying on top. He knew what it meant. They could either keep going or they could stop right there.

He was torn. On one hand, Albus was a guy. A _straight_ guy. He didn’t have sex with other men. But on the other, this body, this borrowed form, was on fire. It wanted Scorpius, no matter what Albus thought. Plus, this wasn’t just any other man; this man loved and adored the person he thought that Albus was, and it was a heady feeling.

This was it. Albus had every right and opportunity to say no, and Scorpius would respect that decision, but something deep inside of him didn’t want to refuse. All he had to do was surrender to it, just let it happen, and no one ever needed to know. Scorpius would do his best to be sweet and attentive, and that idea alone was appealing. It would be a completely different experience, but was that really such a bad thing?

But he had promised Ernie that he would respect his niece’s body.

_Scorpius would pay homage to it._

It had been a while.

_To hell with Ernie._


	4. Chapter 4

With a guttural groan, Albus made the first move by running his hands under Scorpius’s shirt, letting his nails gently drag against the warm flesh. Grunting in approval, Scorpius firmly gripped Albus’s buttocks, pulling him so close that their faces were less than an inch apart.

“Are you sure?”

The fire deep inside his belly was all the answer Albus needed. “Yes.” It wasn’t about what he wanted anymore. It was all about this pulsating need that throbbed in his blood like war drums. Each beat came closer and faster as he threw caution to the wind and stepped brazenly toward that razor’s edge that separated pleasure from madness. It _made_ him want it.

Somehow, they managed to stumble over to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. Hungry lips met in search of that elusive closeness, that last millimetre of space that separated them ever present. Hands sought their sweet education in soft curves and smooth plains.

His mouth departing for an exploratory journey, Scorpius left a trail of feather-soft kisses down Albus’s jaw, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his neck. Stars exploded behind Albus’s eyes as the pure delight shivered through him. He could vaguely hear his own cries of desire, and they somehow managed to fuel his own passions

And then it was all cranked up a notch when lips closed around the aching crest of a hitherto ignored breast. Albus had never known that such a simple, unassuming part of his anatomy could bring such stimulation until he had felt the roughness of Scorpius’s tongue lightly flick over it.

Albus had no words at all for what happened next. As Scorpius’s lips moved even further down, he could feel a heaviness in his lower abdomen. The closer that marauding mouth came to its intended destination, the more a burning expectation pooled. This was insanity. This was torture. This was —

“Oh, shit,” Albus hissed as the tip of Scorpius’s tongue grazed the moist folds between his legs. As this ardent invader teased and taunted its prey, molten ecstasy raged into every corner of Albus’s consciousness. He could feel his voice rasping out some sort of sound, but he couldn’t hear it. Everything was going blank to the point where he wasn’t even sure where ‘up’ was anymore.

The edge was oh-so-incredibly near, as was the tenuous grasp that Albus had on reality. He needed release so badly that he could taste it. He was willing to beg, to plead — anything — in order to get it. The words that had been meant to appeal for amnesty came out in something more resembling a mangled sob. No one was meant to handle this. This delirious rapture was so intense that it was almost painful. It hurt so much that it felt like he could die from it.

When Scorpius raised his head and the torture stopped, the humming of his body didn’t halt along with it. As Albus still murmured incoherently, that mouth was on his, coaxing and encouraging. He could taste his own flavour on those lips, spicy and intimate, as they restored him and gave him back some of the breath that had been stolen moments before.

Drawing back, Scorpius said so sweetly, “I love you.”

Albus stared up at those smouldering grey eyes in wonder. This experience hadn’t been borne of some base need or raw attraction; it was a testament to something that he had never truly understood until that very moment — love. Only something that pure could take feral, animalistic desire and turn it into liquid emotion strong enough and deep enough to drown them both.

“I love you,” Albus admitted to himself and to Scorpius out loud. And it was true. How the hell they had got there, he had no idea, but Albus loved Scorpius truly and profoundly. This man who had taken him out to lunch for upsetting a barrel of gurdyroot, who had so meaningfully distanced himself from the Knights and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about it, who cared enough to be angry over an innocent dance with a lecher, had somehow come to mean everything to him. “I love you,” he repeated, the new and wondrous phrase too perfect to say only once.

Scorpius kissed him again, and Albus felt pressure between his thighs as his lover slowly pushed himself in. The deeper he went, the closer they came to dissolving that hair’s breadth of space between their souls. He couldn’t stand the idea of that distance. Resolutely, Albus wrapped his legs around Scorpius and pulled him in sharply, plunging into depths that he had never dreamt possible.

Hooking one leg with his elbow, Scorpius pulled out almost completely, making his re-entry all the more stimulating. Albus could only gasp and moan as his senses were assaulted with a constant torrent of euphoria over and over again, pushing toward that edge once more in a natural rhythm that seemed to be tailored just for them.

Sweat was beading all over Scorpius’s body. Albus knew he was about to finish and desperately wanted that last moment to be the best of them all. He pulled that face — that familiar, adoring face — down to his own and tried to convey what his mind and body were too immersed in insanity to say.

With one last thrust, they tumbled together off that never-ending precipice and collapsed together, breathless, sated, and still joined. Neither of them spoke, because they were still connected in spirit; each knew how the other felt, and it was glorious.

It didn’t take long for Albus to realise that Scorpius was asleep, but that was okay. He had worked so hard to give the person he loved his absolute best, so Albus was content to lay there, the pleasant weight on his chest as sleep encroached upon his consciousness, as well. Just before he succumbed to it, he had the wherewithal to swallow the spare Polyjuice pill from his bracelet receptacle. The time would come when he would tell Scorpius everything, but this moment was far too perfect to mar with such heavy things.

Albus awoke a few hours later, still immersed in a cloud of bliss. Scorpius was still asleep but had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Still naked, he felt a chill in the air that bit at his exposed skin, since they had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He had no desire to put that damned dress back on, and it would have been inadvisable to wear his own pyjamas, as they were men’s clothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he happened to spot Scorpius’s dress robes on the floor. That would do nicely.

As Albus pulled the garment around him, he inhaled deeply, catching Scorpius’s unique scent, which was a twist of citrus and something a bit earthier. The fragrance enveloped his senses, flinging him back to just hours before when he had given in to the inevitability of falling for someone like Scorpius. With a contented sigh, he padded into the loo.

When he turned on the light, he saw his face in the mirror. There were streaks of kohl smeared on his cheeks, and his hair was nearly a rat’s nest, but that didn’t matter. All he could see was the softer jaw line and the finer eyebrows and the brown eyes. None of these were his. These weren’t Albus. Albus loved Scorpius, not this female form he assumed because he had to, but Scorpius didn’t love Albus. He loved Melinda — or at least who he thought Melinda was.

That face, though, was all Albus was to the person he loved. He hated that face now, because it meant that he had to continue deceiving Scorpius. The rest of them could go to hell — he didn’t care what they thought — but how was he supposed to keep lying to someone who has never been less than honest with him? He would have been disgusted with anyone else for doing so, and if Albus was anything, he was pretty sure he wasn’t a hypocrite.

He still had a job to do. No matter how much he wanted to go into the other room at that very second and tell Scorpius everything, Albus knew he didn’t have that option. But what he did have now was extra motivation to crack this damned case so he could finally be honest with the man he loved.

The man he loved. It still sounded odd to Albus. He had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would be sexually attracted to another man, let alone be head over heels for one. And up to that moment, he never had been, but it was almost as if he had fallen for Scorpius, who just _happened_ to be a bloke. At first, he had written off the attraction as a side effect of his feminine chemistry and instincts, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about Scorpius while he was himself. It had only taken a while to realise it.

Albus angrily scrubbed off the residual make-up. It was yet another deception to the world, and it made him feel filthy. After his skin had been scrubbed nearly raw, he walked slowly back to the bed. Scorpius was sprawled out on his belly, his pale flesh glowing in the residual light from the bathroom. He was so very much at peace and had no idea that he was being made a mockery by the ‘woman’ he loved so very much. And he would continue to remain ignorant, because there was no other way around it.

Sullenly, he climbed back into bed, turning his back to Scorpius. He couldn’t stand to look at him — not after everything that had happened. All he could do was take another Polyjuice pill, curl up into the borrowed robe, and fight the annoying urge to cry himself to sleep because he could still smell the leavenings of their lovemaking and had the nerve to want more of it.

After nearly an hour of lip-biting and pathetic sniffles in the dark, Albus was finally able to sleep again, but he got no rest from it. All he could see in his mind was Scorpius treasuring this fake person’s body, this woman who didn’t exist outside of visage. Every caress, every kiss, every stroke played out for his express torture. He could feel his own voice, calling out in the throes of passion, but all he could hear was Melinda, stealing those murmurs of adoration.

The feel of a hand tracing the curve of his hip brought Albus out of his steamy dream state. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Scorpius, whose hair was practically alight in the sunshine pouring through the window, giving him a sort of halo. That didn’t help Albus’s rampant guilt at all; if anything, it just made his state of mind that much worse.

“Hi, beautiful,” Scorpius said softly, his hand sliding down to caress the side of ‘her’ breast.

Even through the fabric that was swaddled around him, Albus felt his body vibrate with the contact. He struggled to remain composed. “Hey,” he said lamely, unable to say anything more.

Before he knew it, Albus found himself pulled into a straddling position on top of Scorpius, his scant covering falling around his waist. There was a devilish gleam in Scorpius’s eye, which meant that he was in the mood for an encore of the previous night’s activities. The most compelling of evidence was brushing against his bare bottom.

“Care for breakfast, love?” He was obviously not referring to food.

Albus knew he should have begged off on principle, considering the fact that the closer they got, the more it would hurt them both when fate was to play itself out, but he was too weak. His principles had already been irreparably damaged by one night of lovemaking. No matter how bad of an idea it was, he was perfectly willing to exacerbate the matter.

The decision was made final when Albus bent down to take lips hostage as he impaled himself upon Scorpius’s arousal. With a harsh gasp, their mouths separated, and Albus smiled smugly at the look he received. Slowly, in order to draw out the experience, Albus rocked his hips back and forward, ignoring his own frenetic need to quicken the pace. Scorpius was mumbling incoherently beneath him, completely enslaved and half-mad with desire.

Resolve crumbled quickly as Scorpius’s hands clenched on his rear, fingernails digging into the soft skin. It should have hurt, but it only managed to fuel Albus’s ardour. His mind nearly clouded over, that calm, deliberate stroking graduated into an almost hammering motion, ripe with urgency. Both of them had graduated from soft groans to rasping screams of exquisite pleasure-pain.

This time went far more quickly, but Albus wasn’t sure if he could have lived through such intense sensation. This was far more primal than the sweet, careful coupling that they had shared the night before, yet no less precious or satisfying. Scorpius was splayed out, chest heaving, trying to catch that elusive breath of recovery, not even able to keep his eyes open.

The idea of even moving seemed like too much to ask. Albus wanted to sit there and never leave. Even with the unfamiliar nature of being on the other side of the sexual coin, he knew that he would never experience sex this good with anyone else. Even their quick morning shag eclipsed every other encounter he’d ever had in its sheer level of satisfaction afterward.

But that satisfaction didn’t last long as Albus realised that no matter how much he wished that it would never end, all he was doing was making it that much harder down the line. It was the only thing that got him to slide off the bed in search of a fresh change of clothes, which Scorpius, after much procrastination, did as well.

As Albus dug through the trunk that held all of his female clothing, he could hear Scorpius humming an unrecognisable tune. He found himself drumming his fingers to the beat, which kept him from noticing right away that the initial sound had abruptly stopped. Curious, he turned to see what was up, and what he saw made his heart stop.

It was a pair of pants, but they weren’t _Melinda’s_ pants. They were his regular men’s shorts, and they were currently dangling rather accusingly from Scorpius’s hand. “Whose are these?”

 _Shit_. All Albus could do was stare at the simplest and meanest of garments, for it was the downfall of countless weeks of hard work. His only two options were to either tell Scorpius everything or say nothing. There was no way Albus could lie his way out of his boyfriend finding another man’s boxers in his room. And telling him the truth wasn’t even an option, really. The only thing left to do was to stand there, clutching a bundle of clothing to his chest as if it would protect him from what he knew was coming.

“Nothing to say, Melinda?” There was ice in Scorpius’s voice. Every hint at the loving joviality from not fifteen minutes before had evaporated.

“No,” Albus said quietly, feeling positively ill. There was no defence, and his averted eyes would confirm that.

Looking at the pants in disgust, Scorpius flung them onto the floor. “So this is why you didn’t want to… What did I do wrong? What did I do to make you want to go fuck some other bloke while you sat there laughing and pretended to care about me? _What_ did I do?”

Scorpius was shouting, but Albus deserved it. He deserved every indignant word that poured from that mouth that had whispered such sweet things hours before. No, he hadn’t done what he was being accused of, but his sin was far worse. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “For everything.”

Jabbing his finger in Albus’s direction, Scorpius hissed, “Don’t you _dare_ say you’re sorry. If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have done it.” He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging in frustration. “I just don’t understand. Why would you even bother if—“ Scorpius paused, and his face had a look of revelation. “You _are_ sleeping with my dad, aren’t you?”

“No!” Albus said vehemently. “Just… no! He’s shagging one of the serving girls from the party, I think.” Now he wished that he had been able to find out who was in that room with Draco on Christmas Eve. Now that he had caught some of his composure, Albus decided to try a different tactic. “Listen, I know this looks bad, and you have every right to be angry and not trust me. But please, if you really do love me, hear me out.”

Though he looked doubtful, Scorpius gave a slight nod. Albus at least had the opportunity to keep the entire thing from blowing up in his face. “There is a very good reason why those are there, but I can’t tell you what that is right now. I’m definitely not having sex with him, but I also can’t tell you who ‘he’ is. I know it sounds weird, but it’s as much of the truth as I can give you.”

“Ha!” Scorpius said with a sneer. “You are un-fucking-believable, you know that? All you’ve done since I’ve met you is push me away, but like a complete idiot, I keep coming back for more, insisting that you’re just quirky or shy. That’s my fault for assuming you were who I wanted you to be, but I’m not _that_ stupid, sweetheart.”

“Stop it!” Albus cried. “Just stop it!” He was beyond maintaining any sort of ruse. All that he could think about was keeping Scorpius in the room, even if he had to endure the pure bitterness that was coming his way.

If possible, Scorpius became even more livid. “You stop it! You’ve lied to me enough, and I’m sick of it. No matter what I did, it just wasn’t good enough for Princess-fucking-Melinda, was it? Am I not pure-blooded enough for you? Is it because I’m not a Knight of bloody Walpurgis, planning to overthrow the Ministry and take over?”

“It’s not you! I— “ Albus stopped when he realised what Scorpius had just said about the Knights. “What did you mean by that?”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Oh, so _now_ I’m interesting enough for you. Fantastic.”

Shaking his head, Albus said, “No, what you said about the Knights. It’s really important.” His relationship may have just imploded, but if he could at least get Scorpius to say what he knew, then it would not be a complete disaster.

“They’re always on about it, and…wait, why the hell am I discussing this with you?” He almost stabbed his limbs into his clothing, essentially closing off any chance for further conversation. Stalking toward the door, Scorpius didn’t look in Albus’s direction at all until his hand touched the knob. It was as if something had occurred to him. “You know, I think the worst part of all is that last night, you looked me in the eye and said that you loved me. You must be an exceedingly good liar.”

Everything else up to that point, Albus had felt he deserved. The one thing he couldn’t stand was Scorpius saying that he lied about that. “I _do_ love you! How could I lie to you about that?”

“How can _you_ lie about being a virgin?” He finally looked back at Albus, but it was more akin to a glare. “How did you pull that one off? Even your pussy is a fucking liar!”

Desperate for these to not be the last words they ever said to one another, Albus pleaded, “You don’t understand. I’m—“

The near confession was truncated with one last barb. “Shut it! Just shut it! I’m sick of your games.” Scorpius yanked the door open and slammed it behind him, emphasising the finality of his departure. The sound resonated in Albus’s brain like a hammer striking an anvil. It was over. Not only his investigation, but also, whatever tremulous bond that he had formed with Scorpius, the only human being that he’d ever truly cared about outside of family, had been irreparably wounded. His heart physically hurt; his stomach was roiling dangerously, and he barely made it to the toilet in time to spill its contents in retch after shuddering retch. How could he not, when his life was essentially over? If he didn’t finish the investigation — and it looked like that was now impossible — then he’d probably lose his job. After all this, he seriously doubted his ability to love someone romantically ever again. What did he have left?

 

**_4 May, 2039_ **

“How could you have let this happen, Potter? You just threw away seven months of work!”

Jenkins angrily slapped a copy of the previous day’s _Daily Prophet_ onto his desk, complete with the front-page article that Albus had already seen. It gushed on and on about the scandalous break-up between society’s favourite young couple. Most of it was provided by a cleaning lady at the hotel who had heard some of their argument as she was passing by, plus some of the eyewitnesses form the ill-fated exit from the Victory Day ball at the Bletchleys’.

Rubbing his face in his hands, Jenkins groaned. “How long do you think it’ll take before they figure out that there _is_ no real Melinda Macmillan? These people aren’t _that_ bloody stupid.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” Albus snapped, nearly forgetting that he would have normally preferred being flayed than to speak to his supervisor like that. “There’s nothing I can do about it. He’s gone, and now I’m stuck.”

If possible, Jenkins was even more frustrated. “Do you at least have _something?_ ”

The dire mood lifted somewhat as Albus related what Hornby had told him about things changing and whatever drivel had come along with it. While it had been interesting and pertinent at the time, Albus couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. All he could think of was what Scorpius had said. He had truly not believed that it wasn’t something he’d done wrong. He just wouldn’t see that Albus was the villain, the bastard, the liar, the—

“Wait a minute!” Finally remembering Scorpius’s offhand remark about the Knights, Albus said, “Scorpius said something about the Knights! He was banging on about… some things, and he said something about them planning a Ministry takeover.” He couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten something so vital, but if any of it was true, perhaps it wasn’t too late to stop it.

Instead of looking excited or at least happy to have such a crucial piece of news, Jenkins blanched. “Are you sure that’s what you heard? Are you _completely_ sure?”

When Albus nodded, Jenkins started muttering to himself. This went on for nearly five minutes before the latter said, “Lay low for a while, but if you can, try to find out some more. We may just salvage this whole thing yet.”

 

**21 June, 2039**

Albus found himself yet again in the familiar routine of applying a beastly amount of make-up and putting on yet another air-restricting dress for the sake of his job. To his surprise, two weeks before, he had received an invitation to the Montagues’ Solstice party to celebrate the coming of summer. It was a completely ridiculous reason to hold an event, but he suspected it was more about parents having one last bit of fun before their kids came back from Hogwarts.

Really, Albus just suspected it was going to end up being people trying to get him and Scorpius near one another for some entertainment. As much as this made him not want to go, he knew he had to. He’d already done enough damage by not being careful, so he would have to tread lightly this time around.

He was running very late, mostly because he didn’t have the advantage of someone to pick him up an hour early for every engagement. Also, he couldn’t be bothered to care what anyone thought about Melinda anymore. He still hated her. If he never had to swallow another Polyjuice pill, it would be too soon.

Finally, when Albus arrived, it was just as he suspected. There were not-so-discreet whispers from all around the room, and most of the ones he could make out were speculative of why ‘she’ and Scorpius had split. They’d had almost two months to postulate, but neither of them had given anyone an answer. It was Albus’s fervent wish that they not get one, either. The last thing he needed was to be called to Jenkins’s office and fired on the spot. Plus, that would necessitate a rather uncomfortable run-in with Scorpius. No matter how much time had passed, he still wasn’t ready to see that look of disdain again anytime soon.

Within five minutes, ‘Melinda’ had already been monopolised on the dance floor by anyone and everyone looking to pump ‘her’ for information about the gossip columns’ current favourite subject. It gave Albus satisfaction to thwart their efforts, since it really wasn’t any of their business anyway. That had become the normal conversation until one of the last of the night, and that was with Greengrass.

“I see you talked to Hornby. I’m sure Jenkins was happy with that little nugget.”

Gobsmacked, Albus froze on the spot. “I… I have no idea what you mean, Mr Greengrass. Who is Jenkins?”

Bowing showily as if the dance was completed normally, Greengrass said under his breath, “Outside. Five minutes. Rose garden.”

Nodding, Albus could only stare in confusion as Greengrass melted away in the crowd. What the hell was he talking about, and how much did he know about Jenkins? _How_ did he know? There really was no other option than to comply.

As instructed, Albus was in the rose garden five minutes later. The second they were within five feet of one another, Greengrass cast a Silencing Charm around them. He looked around for anyone watching and said, “Disillusion yourself. We can’t be seen.”

Still in the dark, Albus did as he was told. This man apparently needed to say something damned important, and it seemed to be crucial that no one else hear it. And he was tired of being ordered around. “What the hell are you on about, anyway?”

“I know you’re working for the Ministry, and I’m pretty sure I know who you are, as well.”

Albus’s breath seized in his chest. “I have no idea what you mean. Why would I be working for the Ministry?”

“You can stop with the ruse, Potter. Both of us know there is no Melinda Macmillan.”

There was definitely something off about this whole thing, and Albus wanted to know what it was. “Are you really Richard Greengrass?”

“Of course, you fool! Don’t you ever pay attention?” At Albus’s silence, he harrumphed. “I’ve been working with the Ministry for _years_ , providing information on the Knights, and you’ve read my reports for the past five years under the name ‘Michael Millegan’. Why do you think I told you to talk to Hornby?”

Recognising the name, thus confirming Greengrass’s veracity, Albus said, “I just thought you were a dotty old man that hated his grandson’s girlfriend enough to send her to a lecherous old bastard. Not that I blame you, though.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you, Potter. I’m worried about my grandson.”

With a sigh, Albus said, “Yeah, I know I broke his heart. Don’t think for a second that I don’t already feel like shit for that, but there was no other way.”

Another grunt of annoyance told Albus that it wasn’t what Greengrass had meant. “Not that. You’ve got bigger problems.”

“How so?” Albus couldn’t think of anything at the moment worse than wrecking both his and Scorpius’s life.

“They’re after you.”


	5. Chapter 5

_They’re after you._ Albus was sure that this could only mean one thing. The Knights had somehow worked out who he was. How they did that was beyond him, but Greengrass wouldn’t have risked his cover if there weren’t any true danger. “How?”

“A month ago, when Hornby and Lucius Malfoy were arrested for conspiracy, even though they were released because of lack of evidence, that tipped them off that there was someone on the inside. The first thing they did was look at anyone new in town, and who should burst onto the social scene than the perfect little pure-blood girl. It didn’t take them long to make the connection.”

“Shit,” Albus said. His invitation hadn’t been a plot for gossip; it had been a trap, and who knew when they were going to strike. “I need to get out of here.” But then he remembered what Greengrass had said about why he wanted to talk. “What does this have to do with Scorpius?”

Greengrass’s tone said under no uncertain terms that he thought Albus was far too slow on the uptake. “Scorpius’s disagreement with the Knights’ values and views is well documented. And then when they make the connection between him and their suspected mole, what does your ever-so-keen mind tell you about what they’re going to think next?”

“They think he’s in on it.” Albus didn’t need an answer to know that he’d finally caught on to what he was being told. Had it not been such a ridiculously dangerous situation, he would have laughed at the fact that he was capable of hurting Scorpius even after they hadn’t seen one another in nearly two months. “What do you want me to do about it? He won’t even talk to me.”

“Merlin, Potter. For someone with your genetics and resume, you are a complete idiot. You need to take him somewhere and hide, and don’t take ‘no’ for an answer!”

Of course, Greengrass was right. Albus needed to disappear. Scorpius needed to disappear. It would only make sense for them to do so together. All he needed was some way to do it without being caught and without being noticed. “I need help.”

“Well, that’s bloody obvious.” Lowering his Disillusionment Charm, Greengrass said, “Don’t go to the Ministry, because they have someone on the inside, and you can’t be sure who that is. You stay here, and stay invisible. I’ll have him come out here. Body-bind him, turn him into a cat — whatever you have to do — but get him out of here!” He started to walk away but mouthed over his shoulder, “Trust no one.” With that, he was gone.

Albus racked his brain for the kindest of detention spells, but fieldwork had never been his speciality. It looked like it was going to be a Body-bind and a Silencing Charm. When the time came, it went off without a hitch. As soon as they were off the grounds, Albus Apparated both of them to the first place he could think of where no one would look for either of them, and that was at his own flat, which had not been lived in for months. It smelt of disuse and slightly of mould, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to notice it once Scorpius was released.

With a flick of his wand, Albus cast a non-verbal ‘ _Finite Incantatem_ ’, allowing Scorpius to start the rant that had no doubt been burning to get out. He did not disappoint.

“What in the name of Merlin is this about?! Where am I, and… what’s that smell?” His nose crinkled at the dingy air.

Jabbing his finger at the sofa, Albus said, “Sit down and shut up! I’m going to tell you everything, but let me bloody talk.”

Not used to hearing such forcefulness from the normally amenable ‘Melinda’, Scorpius complied, glaring at ‘her’ the whole time. “Fine. I’ll listen to your lies again, but these ones had better be less ridiculous than the last.”

_Not likely_ , Albus thought dryly. “Now, this is going to sound bizarre, but I promise you that this is the absolute truth.” When Scorpius raised a brow but didn’t speak, he knew that his new charge would finally shut up long enough to confess. “My name isn’t Melinda Macmillan. I’m an undercover Magical Law Enforcement officer, trying find out what the Knights of Walpurgis are up to.”

Scorpius scoffed. “That would be my luck, wouldn’t it? What, am I going to Azkaban now because I’m a Malfoy?”

“No,” Albus said quickly, annoyed with Scorpius for blaming himself for everything under the sun once again. “You’re here because your life is in danger.”

“Lovely. And just why is that?”

“Because of me,” Albus said, his insides shrivelling at saying it aloud. “The Knights are after you because they figured out that I was passing along information.” Borrowing Greengrass’s words, he said, “Your disagreement with the Knights’ views and values is well-documented. It didn’t take them long to equate your different point of view with you being an accomplice to their new-found mole.”

Pushing himself off the sofa, Scorpius began briskly pacing, nearly pulling his hair by the roots with his fingers. “And here I thought not being one of them would keep me _out_ of trouble. Fat lot of good that did.” He stopped, staring at the ceiling as if he was trying to make it all make sense in his head. Finally, he asked, “Then who are you really?”

Albus was not looking forward to this. Scorpius could have any number of reactions, from disgust to hatred to misery. “My name is Albus Potter.”

“Albus Potter,” Scorpius said contemplatively. “Say, aren’t you…” His eyes bulged as he made the mental connection to a name he hadn’t heard in almost fifteen years. “Please tell me you’re joking, because there is no way you’re _that_ Albus Potter. He’s about four inches taller, and he definitely doesn’t have tits like yours.”

Well, derision was better than most of the alternatives in terms of reaction. He could work with that. “I’ll be changing back in about an hour.” Albus popped his spare Polyjuice pill from his bracelet and held it up for Scorpius to see. “This is the newest innovation in reconnaissance. It’s Polyjuice potion, but it’s refined to last longer and can be turned into powder and therefore into a pill.”

Scorpius took the pill and stared at it. “You mean…this is Melinda? This is all she was? A chunk of dried potion?” He looked saddened by the idea. “She didn’t even exist.”

“She existed, Scorpius. Melinda has always been me. Sure, basic information is different, but everything she was, everything she was to _you_ , is still alive. I know it’s hard to accept, but—“

“Hard to accept?” From the ashes of melancholy arose ire, which made Albus wince. “You’re trying to tell me that it’s hard to accept? I had sex with a _man!_ You tricked me, Potter. You violated me!” Scorpius scrubbed his face with his hands, seemingly desperate to erase some invisible stain. “This can’t even be happening.”

Considering the emotional blow that it was to both of them, Albus was actually happy that Scorpius was angry. He could deal with that. “Look, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had no other options.”

Eyes darkening, Scorpius glared at Albus. “So I’m just collateral damage then? Some pawn in your twisted little game with an organisation that I have _nothing_ to do with?”

“Not anymore!” Albus retorted, desperate to make his case. “Yes, Melinda was a lie, but everything else was real. It literally made me sick sometimes, knowing what I was doing to you. You’ll probably never believe it, but it’s the truth. I’d swear to it on Veritaserum if you asked me to.”

“Are you saying…”

Albus took a deep breath, hoping he had the bollocks to just get it out. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know how or why, but somewhere in this whole mess of shit, I fell in love with you. It wasn’t her, and it never was. When I said it to you that night, I meant it, and may lightning strike me dead right now if I lied.” Almost challengingly, Albus spread his arms wide, as if daring the heavens to call him a liar.

Scorpius flopped back onto the couch, trying not to look at Albus. “But you’re not gay. You dated girls back in school, and weren’t you seeing that ugly wench Wendy Smith about a year ago?”

“She wasn’t ugly,” Albus said defensively. “She was just… different. Plus, she was _definitely_ not as ugly as Amanda Porter.” Ignoring Scorpius’s glare, he continued. “And no, I wasn’t gay. I don’t even think I am now. I react the same way to beautiful women as you do. I just… I don’t want _them_ , I want _you_.” Something else occurred to him. “Wait a minute. How do you know so much about me? I barely knew your name from school. I don’t think I’d even talked to you before.”

Shaking his head like he was addressing an idiot, Scorpius said, “You’re a Potter. Everyone who wants to be anyone knows your business better than you do. How the hell do you not know that by now?”

“Then I suppose that makes us even.”

“No, it certainly does not. You know everything about me, not just what the society pages say.”

Was that an invitation, or was that simply an observation? Albus decided to test the waters. “Ashley Crane.”

“What?” Scorpius was genuinely baffled.

“Ashley Crane was my first. It was the end of our seventh-year, and N.E.W.T.s had just finished. She was hot, and I _really_ wanted to lose my virginity before James, because he was always bragging that he was better with the ladies because he played Quidditch. Not only did I beat him to it, he had to settle for Helen Markle just to catch up. _Now_ we’re even.” Albus couldn’t believe that he had just confessed to all of that. It was definitely not a point of pride so much as a character defining moment — or _lack_ of character.

Casting Albus a sideways glance, Scorpius said, “Ashley Crane? Yeah, she was hot.” Looking back down at his hands, Scorpius asked, “What do you want from me? What is it that I’m supposed to do?”

Flopping down next to Scorpius, Albus said, “I don’t know. It’s not like I have the right to, anyway. You’re too good for someone like me.”

“Probably.”

The atmosphere was very tense between them. Scorpius was uncomfortable with their proximity, and Albus was starting to feel the effects of wearing uncomfortable clothing for an extended period. At last, he snapped. “I fucking hate this!”

“How do you think I feel?” Scorpius said, misinterpreting Albus’s frustration.

“Not that. This—“ Albus reached down back of his dress to un-do the hooks of his bra, “—damned thing is driving me spare.” He managed to work it free without exposing himself, subsequently chucking the offensive item across the room. “I _hate_ being a girl. I want to eat whatever I want, scratch my bollocks when I feel like, and drink sodding beer instead of that damned poof juice!”

The cast-off garment captivated Scorpius. He stared at it for quite some time, and after a while, a tear slipped down his cheek. “This really is all happening, isn’t it?”

Albus felt his annoyance with his undergarments disappear. Scorpius looked so bereft, like he had just seen someone he loved die. And, in a way, he had. Albus vowed to himself that no matter what, he would never, ever become Melinda again, even if it got him sacked. There was just too much caught up in that person that he had to try to shut out of his mind, because it was rapidly becoming obvious that Scorpius would never love _him_ like he loved _her_. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I know you’ll probably never believe it, but being with you made it worth it.”

Again, there was a period of silence. Scorpius stared at the floor, while Albus lolled his head back, glaring daggers at the ceiling. There was so much that Albus wanted to say, but he didn’t really host the illusion that Scorpius wanted to hear it. But that didn’t mean that watching the person he loved brood in abject misery didn’t tear his heart from his chest.

Quietly, Albus got up and wandered into his bedroom to change before he transformed back into himself. The only thing he had that would stay on the slender female curves was a pair of pyjama bottoms and an undershirt. He would need his glasses, as well, but his regular pair was at the hotel. All he had was a more ‘stylish’ pair, which Lily had given him for his thirtieth birthday in an effort to smarten him up. Considering how much he actually cared about rot like that, they had never even been worn. 

His reflection amused him. The over-sized clothing made him look like he was about to make the walk of shame after an overnight shag. Hopefully, though, it would be the last time he would see that hated brown hair and the loathsome brown eyes that weren’t his. If Scorpius never loved him back, then so be it, but it was preferable to living in this shell of deceit, no matter how happy it had made him to have that little bit of time.

Almost without warning, pain gripped Albus. He knew it was his true form coming back. Normally, he slept through the process and didn’t really feel it, apart from a slew of weird dreams, but this time, he didn’t have that option. It felt like his bones were being disconnected at the joints and his skin was too slow to accommodate. As much as he tried not to, he cried out.

In the far reaches of his consciousness, he heard the door open and an arm wrapping around his shoulders to keep him from hitting the floor. That arm guided Albus to the edge of the bed, where he laid down, eyes squeezed shut, as his body became his own again. He had expected Scorpius to leave after that, but he had stayed, hand on Albus’s shoulder.

When the tide of agony ebbed, Albus opened his eyes. Once again, everything was a blur without his glasses. He ran his hands down his face, feeling a day’s worth of stubble. Heartened, he went further down, finding that his chest was no longer inflated and that, even lower, his proper genitalia was normal once more. He sighed in relief. The pain was gone, and so was Melinda. This was who he would be for the rest of his life, and he was happy to be there.

He felt Scorpius put his glasses into his hand, and he blindly shoved them onto his face. Now that his vision was clear, Albus looked over to his probably uncomfortable companion and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks.”

Instead of the robotically polite ‘You’re welcome’ Albus had expected, Scorpius said, “I believe you, Potter. I think you’re being honest when you said how you feel. I don’t even think I’m angry about being lied to anymore, because I know why you did it. I would probably have done the same in your place. It’s just that… I don’t know if I can feel the same about you.”

“I know,” Albus said. “I’m not going to ask you — and I wouldn’t have the right anyway — but I just wanted you to know that not a second went by that your feelings being hurt didn’t bother me. I hope you know that.”

Scorpius nodded, then looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I loved her. I’ve never loved anyone before, and I think I’ll miss her every day, or at least until I’m too old and barmy to remember.”

Albus knew how that felt all too well. He touched Scorpius’s forearm, who flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. “I did that to you, and I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

After a while, Scorpius asked, “Potter, tell me something. When did you know? What made you decide?”

It was hard for Albus to think about, but considering everything, Scorpius deserved to know. “I knew I wanted to shag you the moment we sat on the couch, but I realised I _loved_ you when you looked down at me with that look in your eye, like I was the only person in the world who mattered. It was then when I knew that my reaction to you wasn’t just some freak side effect of having a woman’s body to contend with.” He almost didn’t dare ask, but Albus wanted to know. “You?”

Upon consideration, he almost wished he hadn’t said anything, but Scorpius was surprisingly willing to share. “I think it was when I was shopping for the necklace. I was trying to pick the one that would look the least ugly next to how beautiful Melinda was, but then when I thought about it, I knew that I didn’t care about that. She could have worn gorgeous gowns or stupidly inappropriate Halloween dresses or even oversized pyjamas, and I wouldn’t have felt any differently about her. She could have looked like a Hippogriff’s arse end and it wouldn’t have mattered to me by that point.

“So I chose the emerald, because there was something about the colour green that reminded me of her. It just seemed right, thus making my decision far simpler.”

It would have been delusional at that point for Albus to think that the preference for green was in any way a reference to his eye colour. He knew that, but deep down, he really wanted Scorpius to like him in some way, even if he would never actually love him. “It was really nice. I was afraid I would lose it or ruin it, so I put it in my vault. When all of this is over, I’ll give it back.”

Shaking his head, Scorpius said, “No. I'd really rather never see it again. Do whatever you want; give it to your sister, that madwoman you call a cousin, or whatever. I don't care.”

“Yes, you do,” Albus said. He knew Scorpius well enough to know that he was indeed attached to that necklace, but he didn't want to show it. “What do you _really_ want me to do with it?”

Scorpius regarded Albus carefully, as if gauging a potential reaction. And for good reason. “I want you to keep it. I wanted Melinda to have it, and since she isn't real — except she is, because she's you — I want her to have it. So I suppose that means you should have it.”

“Okay. I'll take care of it, and that's a promise.” Albus looked away, because it was right about then that Scorpius would be embarrassed that he'd asked such a thing. To shift the dynamics a bit, he said, “You're keeping the broom, I hope.”

“Of course. Unless you want it back.”

Albus shook his head. “I can barely fly on an old broom. Something like that would probably get me killed. Besides, I knew you played and thought you would like it.”

An awkward quiet rose between them. There was a myriad of issues between them, and they were doing their level best to skirt around them. Albus was desperate to know that Scorpius felt something for him that wasn't disgust or annoyance, but he kept on bringing up things that couldn't possibly be relevant at the moment.

This time, it was Scorpius who ended the stand-off. “This is ridiculous. We're sitting here, acting like we don't even know one another. If we're going to be stuck here, it can't go on like this.” He squinted and leant toward Albus. “Your eyes are green.”

“So I noticed,” Albus said, wondering where this was going.

Seemingly in thought, Scorpius asked, “Favourite colour?”

“Green.”

“How many N.E.W.T.s?”

“Five.”

“Butterbeer or pumpkin juice?”

“Neither. I prefer water.”

“What is your family like?”

Now this question was far more complex. Albus considered it a minute before he responded. “They are a collection of rabble-rousing gingers who get together every holiday, only to spend most of it bickering over stupid things. I think my Aunt Hermione is the most normal of the bunch, and my Uncle Percy reminds me so much of Professor Vector that it's positively terrifying.”

“No, I mean your immediate family. What is it like to have a mum and dad that aren't completely mental? Did you ever wish that you didn't have to go home for holidays.”

“Sometimes. The summer my dad's godson Teddy got killed, I wanted to go back to Hogwarts because I refused to acknowledge that it happened. My parents fought a lot that year, and both of them were really different after that. That's also when my brother and I stopped getting on so well.”

Scorpius stared at the floor. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up.”

“No, it’s all right,” Albus said. “What's done is done. After a much-needed dust-up, we're okay now. Dad'll probably never be the same, but he can talk about Teddy now, whereas after it happened, he would get all dark and moody when someone mentioned anything that might have even sounded like Teddy's name.”

Appeased, Scorpius said, “They still sound nice, though, your family. I wish I'd had family that could forgive and forget. My father and grandfather will always think that they're superior because they're Malfoys and pure-blooded, and I'm not even going to start on my mother. Your family fights because they care, but mine... they don't even talk.”

“I guess so,” Albus said. Scorpius had never mentioned any of that before, but he was glad that he knew. It meant that he was opening up to the idea of being cordial with Albus and not just coolly civil, which was definitely a step in the right direction.

For hours after, they discussed any and every menial thing that they could think of, always steering far away from talking about their prior relationship. Albus found himself telling Scorpius things that he could scarcely bear to admit to himself. It felt good for him to become as familiar to Scorpius as Melinda had been, and after a while, he was even more so. The wall had broken, so perhaps down the line, they could be more.

But for the time being, Albus was happy. They were safe, and they were okay. Not great... just okay.


	6. Chapter 6

**23 June, 2039**

They couldn’t stay locked up in there forever. At some point, either Albus or Scorpius had to venture out, if not for food then for a chance to get away from the stale air in the neglected flat. Great issue had been taken as to who would get to leave first, but Albus had won that argument.

“Please tell me you’re still going to be here when I get back,” Albus said, dubious about leaving Scorpius alone. He could very well do a runner the moment Albus left.

Annoyed, Scorpius said, “I said I wouldn’t. Besides, where would I go when there are dozens of ex-Death Eaters trying to get me? Maybe I’ll just go for a little stroll through Diagon Alley. Merlin, Potter, how stupid do you think I am?”

“Oh, don’t turn this back on me!” Albus snapped. “You were the one bitching not an hour ago about not having a change of clothes. You _know_ you can’t go back to your flat, especially not for something so utterly unimportant.”

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius said, “Well, maybe if you dressed like a civilised human being and not a homeless person, I could borrow some of yours.”

“Merlin’s twisted knickers, are you on about that again?” Truthfully, Albus didn’t mind bickering with Scorpius. It gave him something to think about other than the fact that they were in danger should they ever stray from those walls. “Just please don’t do anything foolish.”

Hoping that Scorpius would turn out to be far more reasonable than he was letting on, Albus Apparated to the Ministry. He needed to fill in Jenkins on what had happened in the past few days, plus arrange a more hospitable safe house for Scorpius. If they were both left penned up, they’d likely tear each other apart out of sheer boredom if nothing else.

Without waiting to announce his arrival, Albus stalked into Jenkins’s office. He could not quite prepare himself for what he saw there. In conference was no less than three confirmed or suspected Knights, laughing and joking with Jenkins like old friends. When they noticed Albus, the room became quiet.

Slowly, the pieces all began falling into place. There had been an operative inside the Ministry who held a high position. Even after all the information Albus provided, only a couple token arrests with no consequences were made. Now that he thought about it, it was all so ridiculously clear, and he’d missed it. “So it’s you then. You’re the mole.” The door was closed behind Albus by a non-verbal spell, and one of the Knights cast a Silencing Charm around the room. That gave him all the answer he needed.

 “You never were very quick on the uptake, Potter.” Jenkins’s voice was ripe with disdain. “Why do you think I gave you this job in the first place?”

Albus was frozen. The whole truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Harry had said something about Jenkins putting someone on the case, hence ending the Auror Department’s involvement in Knight activity. Scorpius had mentioned that a Ministry take-over had always been the plan. Greengrass had told him to trust no-one and just hide. “You can’t seriously think this will work, can you? You want to snuff out the Minister and blame it on a couple of known radicals based on the information that _I_ gave you, thereby giving you the right to avenge our beloved leader. The people will be looking for a hero, and they’ll happen to have you handy, there to give them back their security.”

Actually, the plan was brilliant, only Scorpius and Greengrass, who gave him information he wasn’t supposed to have, had unintentionally foiled it. Now that he had bearded the proverbial lion in its den, he was fairly certain that he had a slim chance of leaving the room unharmed. Playing things by ear had never been a strong suit of his, which is probably why he had been the rather unfortunate crux of the Knights’ scheme.

“So,” Albus said weakly, “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what happens now.”  If he could get them to admit to anything, he would have at least a slim chance of getting a message to Scorpius to run for his life. If he had to die for that to happen, then that was how it would be. No matter how much of a joke Jenkins had made of his career in law enforcement, Albus had still vowed to protect the innocent with every last breath in his body. That resolve had never been tested to that point, but he was almost surprised that he had the bollocks to see it through.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to enjoy killing you,” Jenkins sneered. “All of your insipid drooling about the Malfoy boy, as if I wouldn’t notice you were half in love with him. Perhaps a lovers’ quarrel double-homicide would be the correct course of action.”

“Don’t touch him!” Albus growled. Even if they tore him to pieces, he would be damned if they would harm one hair on Scorpius’s head. He’d take them all on if he had to.

Jenkins laughed cruelly. “My point exactly. You are just too easy, Potter. Too easy.”

There was no way Albus was going to let them get away with anything. Closing his eyes, focussing on his sweetest and fondest memories, he clenched his hand around his wand, ready to cast the most important spell of his life. Remarkably clear-headed, he aimed his wand north-east in the direction of his flat and bellowed, “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”

A luminescent frog leaped out from a cloud of silver smoke and disappeared through the door. It would tell Scorpius what he knew and to run for it, and he would do his best to make sure that he got a chance to do so. Once the spell had been cast, Albus turned back to the four furious Knights, all of whom were armed and willing to kill him.

His Shield Charm was barely cast in time to deflect two Stunners and two other curses that he didn’t recognise. They seemed willing to let him live for the moment, even if it wasn’t for any other reason than to set up their false double murder. Even if he was outnumbered and categorically doomed, though, Albus wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of taking him down without a fight.

All of his efforts were concentrated on pure defence, but Albus knew he was eventually going to lose. What kept his resolve up was the thought that every second of their time that he wasted was one more second of a head start that Scorpius would have to escape these maniacs. Even as the raw frequency of his shield weakened it each time he cast it, he wasn’t going to give up until they started using the one curse that couldn’t be stopped.

Nearly exhausted, Albus was too slow in protecting himself, allowing a purple jet of light to hit him square in the chest. Pain the likes of which he had never experienced buffeted every last nerve in his body like fire ravaging a forest. His cries of agony were drowned out in his own ears by the roar of the fire that was cascading through him. He felt like his very bones were ready to melt under the intensity.

But just as soon as it started, it started to ease. The sounds in the room began to trickle back into his brain, and he could sense a newcomer to the room. Everything was still very hazy, but Albus felt himself being dragged away by someone who was swearing profusely. Though it was impossible, the voice reminded him of Scorpius, who was likely far away from London. The idea of it gave him peace of mind, which allowed the darkness that had been lurking around the perimeter of his mind to win over and he could finally sleep.

Albus had no idea how long he was out, but when he started to regain consciousness, he wished he hadn’t. His body hurt everywhere. Even his _hair_ hurt. This distracted him for a while before he figured out that there were no more curses flying around him. Then he vaguely recalled someone pulling him away from the fight. He hoped that his benefactor was still around.

In an ill-advised effort to see where the hell he was, Albus sat bolt upright. The room started spinning, and he felt like vomiting. A bucket was placed under his chin so he could empty the contents of his stomach somewhere besides all over himself. When he was finished, he was pushed back down onto his pillows and—

Pillows? Where the hell was he? This time, he was far more careful, slowly opening his eyes. His glasses were gone, so he couldn’t see properly, but he could recognise that platinum blond hair anywhere. “W-why are you here? It’s not safe.”

Scorpius chucked. “We’re about as safe as we can get. We’re at your parents’ house.”

As the fog lifted, Albus jerked his head toward Scorpius. “But… what happened?” Somehow, his plan to give Scorpius time to get away had been dangerously uprooted.

“When I got your Patronus, I knew what you were trying to do. There was no way I was leaving you to die there. I sent an owl to your dad, giving him a place to meet up with us, should either of us get out of this stupid fiasco alive. I managed to catch them by surprise and Disarm all but one of them, and after that, it was actually fairly easy to get away. I managed to get you to your father, and we’ve been here ever since.” As if he realised something that he’d forgotten, Scorpius reached into his pocket and placed Albus’s glasses — the ones he preferred — onto his face. “Better?”

“Please don’t say you went back to the hotel.”

“I didn’t go by myself, if that’s what you’re asking. Between when your mum threw me out for thinking I was one of your attackers to when your dad finally convinced her that I wasn’t one of the Knights, I had some spare time. Your other ones were broken.”

Albus smiled at the mental image of his mother railing at Scorpius. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking his head, Scorpius said, “No need to apologise. She loves you and had every right not to trust me. Considering my grandfather and even my own mother were implicated in Jenkins’s confession, it’s a natural assumption.”

“Wait, what?” Albus was shocked. What purpose could Jenkins selling out his cohorts possibly serve? It would earn him no friends in Azkaban.

The corner of his mouth twitching, Scorpius clarified. “Oh, your father may or may not have slipped and splashed some Veritaserum Jenkins’s way. It was quite informative, and he’s off with his Aurors, rounding up every last one of them.”

“But that’s illegal!” Albus was in disbelief that his father would have such blatant disregard for the law.

“I would have done a hell of a lot worse if I’d got a hold of them first.” Scorpius’s eyes darkened. “If you could have seen the look in his eyes…”

Almost in awe of Scorpius, Albus asked the question that had been in his mind since he had been told what happened. “Why did you come back for me? All you had to do was run, and you would have been shot of me for good. No more uncomfortable reminders of everything, no more putting up with the idea that a bloke is stupidly in love with you…why?”

“Oh, I considered it,” Scorpius admitted, “but only for a few seconds. When I thought about you, that you would let yourself be slaughtered just so I might be able to get away, I knew that I would never be able to live with myself if anything happened to you. It didn’t take long to figure out where you were, and the rest you know.”

Rubbing his throbbing temples, Albus asked, “What the hell curse was that anyway?”

Scorpius glowered. “Your dad said it was a Burning Curse. He’d seen it once before, and I think it was the memory of it that set him off.”

That sounded very much like Harry, which made Albus smile to himself. “Thank you for coming back. Even though I’m right pissed that you did, thank you.”

“Potter…” Scorpius said before amending, “Albus, I think I need to tell you something.”

Worried that someone else had been hurt, Albus was anxious to know what this ‘something’ was. “Is everyone okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You’re injured enough for everyone. I was talking about something else.” Scorpius closed his eyes, as if collecting his thoughts privately before proceeding. “There was a point while you were out that it wasn’t certain whether you were going to make it.”

Albus had no idea where this was going. “Okay,” he said tentatively, hoping to spur on something a bit more enlightening.

“That gave me time to think about a lot of things. First, there was the fact that I’m probably damaged beyond words for any serious relationship. Then there’s the fact that my mother and grandfather are traitors, and I’ll be lucky if I have an inheritance now. But the one that struck me the most was how much the idea of you dying made me sick inside.”

“Are you saying…” Albus didn’t dare hope that Scorpius had somehow had a change of heart, not to mention sexuality.

“What I’m saying, Potter, is that I care about you. I don’t know what that means at the moment, because we have the most fucked up thing going on between us and it’s more complicated than I know how to deal with. But I suppose what I mean is that I don’t think I could go the rest of my life without knowing whether it was you I fell in love with or if it was really Melinda. I would like the opportunity to find that out.”

His jaw hanging slack, Albus stuttered, “Sure... I mean, if you want to, but don't feel like you have to for—“ He never finished his sentence as Scorpius cut him off with a searing kiss. It caught him off guard, but it didn't take long to remember that hint of peppermint and a flavour that belonged solely to Scorpius. It felt just as good and right as it had when he was under the effects of the Polyjuice pills.

Finally tearing his lips away, Scorpius was breathless. “You taste the same. How is that possible?”

Shrugging, Albus said, “No idea. I suppose I should let the boys in Intel know that the pills aren't effective on everything.”

Scorpius nodded absently, seemingly in deep contemplation. Albus would have given anything to know what was going on inside his head at that moment. He wanted so badly for Scorpius to declare that he was still interested, but it would have been the height of delusion to expect it to actually happen. That was probably why Albus nearly flinched when his lips were again occupied.

If possible, this kiss was even sweeter than the first, because there was no sense of hesitation or doubt. Albus felt himself melting back into the pillows as Scorpius leant in closer for just that much more added contact.

A throat clearing in the background interrupted an otherwise perfect moment. They both turned to see James, who was trying his best not to smirk. “Mum told me you'd been cursed or something. I came by to see how you were doing. I guess I should have asked _who_ you were doing first.”

Albus glared, “Go to hell, James. It's none of your business.”

James looked ready to retort, but Scorpius stood up. “I should probably talk to your father sometime soon to see if he needs me for any more information. I'll leave you two alone.” As he left, he passed by James, whispering just loud enough for Albus to hear, “Helen Markle.”

Turning red, James glowered as Scorpius walked away looking like the cat that had swallowed the canary. His little brother, however, had nowhere to hide. “What the hell is wrong with you? Malfoy? _Really?!_ ”

“As I said, James, it's none of your business who I'm snogging. Now, if you could be so kind as to act like an adult when he's around, I'd really appreciate it.” Albus hated the defensive tone in his voice, but the last person who had room to judge him for anything was James.

“Weren't you dating Wendy Smith? You know... the ugly one. Bit of a downgrade after the Ashley Crane feat. Then again, Malfoy's kind of pretty for a bloke, so maybe you're not so—“

“For the love of Merlin, she wasn't ugly! Besides, she was really good at... other things. And isn't it some sort of character flaw to judge people by how they look?” If anyone could be an authority on the subject, Albus was definitely it.

Scoffing, James said, “No, it's not, and — wait a minute! Since when did you start being gay?”

“I'm not, as far as I can tell. I just... like _him_. I like a nice pair of tits as well as you do. Just not when they're on me.” At James's confusion, he gave a brief synopsis of his months’ long assignment.

“So, he fell for you as a girl, and now that you're a guy again, he still fancies you? Maybe a Malfoy can really change his spots.”

Albus wasn't very strong at the moment, but he had enough in him to punch his brother in the arm. “I don't suppose it would kill you to be happy for me, would it?”

“Murder, little brother. It would be _murder_.” James ruffled Albus's hair and darted away before the fist that was careening toward his face could make contact. “I'll leave you two alone. Get well soon so Mum can go back to yelling at the wireless instead of wearing a hole in the kitchen floor with her maniacal pacing.”

As James left the room, Albus laid back, thinking about everything that had happened, starting with that day in Diagon Alley and really veering into the realm of the bizarre at the Halloween Masque. When he had been given the assignment, he had known it would be difficult, but he had no idea how much it would really change his life.

And he believed it was for the better, but when Scorpius came back in and gave him a lazy smile, he knew it for sure.


End file.
